


Sounds like Hell

by tori_anne_singer



Series: Legacies [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Language, Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family (Leon Claire Sherry), Heavy Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Self-Discovery, Slight Canon Divergence, Soulmate-ish Elements, Tragic Romance, Treats RE2Remake as Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tori_anne_singer/pseuds/tori_anne_singer
Summary: This series treats RE2Remake as Canon, and explores a possible timeline where Claire, Leon and Sherry were together 3 months before Sherry's lost to the U.S. Government.DIRECT SEQUEL to Everything you Need. READ IT FIRST.Leon's confession disrupted every truth Claire thought she knew. As she struggles to make sense of her new reality, she'll have help from her family, a rival, and the love of a good man, to re-discover what she buried inside of her long-hidden emotions.She'll need all of her strength to finish the battle that has been silently raging for nearly fifteen years with the woman in the red dress.Claire must find herself, to help conquer the inner-demons that have tormented the Blue-Eyed Boy from so long ago...To show him that it's never too late for family.
Relationships: (Complicatedly Platonic Leon/Ada), (Subtle Sherry/Jake), Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield
Series: Legacies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837078
Comments: 46
Kudos: 54





	1. A New Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone's love and support! A One-shot has turned into a series because of the amazing inspiration of you guys!  
> Please enjoy this installment, and feel free to call out any mistakes you find!  
> Dedicated to all the fabulous Cleon fans out there! <3<3<3

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Resident Evil or any of Capcom’s properties. Any and all pop-culture references are used for humorous purposes and I am not claiming ownership or originality.

<3

~1~

A New Hope

Featuring: Meddling daughters

July, 2013 

Claire was perched on an outdoor seat in front of a local café; her gaze tensely fixed on the phone in her hands. Her cold drink was forgotten as condensation pooled along the bottom of the glass. 

_‘He’s waiting for me to call…or…I’m reading too much into it.'_ Claire continued her staring contest, sighing pleasantly when a sudden breeze cooled her sun-warmed neck. She removed her off-white over shirt, leaving just the dark-green tank top. 

“You ready to order?” a friendly older woman asked as she stopped by the table, pad in hand. 

“Still waiting for someone.” 

“Alrighty, I’ll check back in with you later.” The woman walked away.

_‘Maybe…maybe he’s just trying to stake a claim against other men.'_ She pecked the corner of her phone on the table at the desperate thought. Guilt flooded through her. _‘He’s never tried to control you…Leon’s a good man.’_ Her chest fluttered.

It was harder now; a **lot** harder to argue with her heart. 

Her mind fought on, _‘But what is he offering…or asking for…if anything?’_ Claire narrowed her eyes as she quieted her pecking. _‘Well, he_ **_did_ ** _make quite a statement with all those flowers...it must have meant_ **_something_** _.’_

Claire leaned back and crossed her knees, taking a drink of her soda. _‘But…what about Ada?’_ She couldn’t **stop** the raven-haired beauty from entering her mind’s eye. _‘Maybe she finally let him go?’_ She gripped the phone tighter in her hand. _‘Maybe he’s finally let_ **_her_ ** _go.’_

Her heart desperately tried to cling to that last theory, despite the warning bells in her head. 

She leaned her head back, staring up at the underside of the patio umbrella. _‘What if I let myself—’_ goosebumps erupted along her flesh, _‘…but he…still eventually chooses…_ **_her_ ** _?’_ She exhaled harshly, her stomach dropping. _‘Losing him to her after everything…after_ **_having_ ** _…everything.’_ Claire wrapped her arms around herself as her chest tightened. _‘Why does he feel more out of reach than ever? God damn you, Leon.’_

Her heart pounded as her mind tickled her with thoughts of foreboding, _‘What if he’s desperate...hoping that Ada will get jealous.’_ Disgust swirled through her gut. _‘He wouldn’t use you like that, how could you even think it.’_

“Claire, what’s wrong?” 

She startled, her head dropping back down. Her face lit up into a large smile. “Sherry!” She hurried out of her chair and let the smaller blonde tuck into her embrace. “Ohh, you just don’t know how much I’ve been worried about you.”

Sherry pressed her face into Claire’s shoulder. “By the butt chewing you gave on the phone the other night,” her voice was muffled, “I have a pretty good indication.” She giggled.

Claire sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around Sherry’s baby-blue blouse. They eventually eased apart, and Claire smiled as she gestured for Sherry to join her at the table. “I’ll never approve of you working for those bastards after everything that’s happened,” she declared as she sat down. “I swear everyone in my life is trying to give me gray hairs, making me worry all the time.” 

Sherry sat and crossed her legs delicately. “I couldn’t pass up the chance at freedom,” she explained as she looked around. “…The last time we ate together like this…I was twelve.” 

Claire opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak over the sudden clenching in her throat. 

The young agent reached over and clasped her hand on the table. 

Claire sucked in a breath before swallowing as old hurts surfaced. “I never wanted any of that for you, Sherry.” She shifted in her seat, turning her hand palm up in the blonde’s grasp. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.” Her left side ached as she felt herself drifting back. 

Sherry squeezed her hand. 

Claire focused on her. 

“Both of you have apologized enough over the years, and **none** of it was your fault.” Sherry smiled, her lip gloss shining in the early-noon sun.

Claire’s gaze bounced to the table. _‘But I couldn’t stop them,'_ she thought. 

The young agent continued, “But more than freedom…I wanted to honor the sacrifices you’ve both made for me.”

Claire winced. “Sherry!” Her eyes shot to the younger girl. 

The blonde waved her off. “You’re both **everything** I’ve always looked up to, and wanted to be.” She gently pulled her hand back. “I feel good about what I’m doing, and what I’ve done.” Sherry nodded with an air of finality. She tucked her hair behind her ear as the waitress came back. 

“You ready to order, hon?” Her smile and her brown eyes were warm and friendly. 

“Yes, please,” Sherry beamed. 

Claire took a deep breath, trying to calm down as the two ordered lunch. She let herself focus on Sherry, who kept looking around, watching the people at other tables. 

Her face was serene. Happy. 

The redhead sighed deeply, letting it soothe her. 

Once the waitress left with their order, Claire rested her chin on her knuckles and gazed at her companion. “Okay, you win, I’ll drop it for **now** , Miss Agent.” They shared a smile, Claire’s turning devious. “Tell me more about **Jake**.” Her eyes narrowed with fiendish delight at the girl’s immediate fluster. 

Sherry looked down at the table before clearing her throat. “W-well, I told you he was my assignment.” 

“Nuh,” Claire interrupted, “tell me why he makes you make **that** face.” She snickered at the faint coloring of Sherry’s pale cheeks. 

The girl laughed awkwardly, staring a hole into the table. Her face gradually softened. “…His goodness.”

Claire smiled at the affectionate tone. She softly clicked her tongue. “He sounds special.” 

Sherry glanced up. “I…well, maybe.” She fidgeted in her seat. “He actually reminds me of Leon.” Her gaze was thoughtful. “When it came to it…he was selfless.” 

They shared a smile. 

Claire’s heart thundered as memories flashed through her mind, _‘If he’s even half the man Leon is…’_ She broke eye-contact to sip at her drink. “I understand.” They sat quietly for a few moments before Claire smirked. “When do I meet him?” 

Sherry huffed with a grin, her head dropping toward her chest. “Well, considering he’s in another country…” she trailed off, and Claire noted the flicker of sadness in her blue eyes. 

“I see.” She was disappointed. “You stay in contact?” 

Sherry slightly shrugged. “Well…we’ve spoken on the phone a couple times during the last few days,” she had a far-away look in her eyes, “but…I don’t know.” 

Claire’s heart ached for her. “Sherry.” She smiled before taking a deep breath. “Trust me,” she fidgeted her fingers on the table, “don’t ignore it, if it’s something.” 

Sherry hummed thoughtfully, and the ladies relaxed as the waitress brought their food.

*

The conversation eventually turned to the past, and they were soon reminiscing about the three months they had together post-Raccoon. The world around them faded as they laughed and smiled, regaling each other with happy memories from over fourteen years ago. 

Sherry wiped at her mouth with a napkin, giggling before taking a drink of soda. “Remember when Leon walked in on us when you were explaining my first period?”

Claire snorted, nearly choking on her burger. She coughed a few times. “Oh, you could tell he just wanted to disappear.” 

The women shared a laugh at his expense. 

Sherry squeezed her eyes shut. “Not just him! I was **dying** of embarrassment! And then he just says, ‘“Uh, sorry,”’ and backs out of the room!” Her shoulders shook, and she covered her mouth to subdue her laughter. 

Claire waved her hands around excitedly with a grin. “He was such a champ, though!” 

Their happy noises were drawing attention from patrons at nearby tables. 

The redhead leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know how many pads he thought girls needed,” she broke off with gasping laughter, “but he probably came back with…what the hell did he come back with... **fifteen** packages?!” 

Sherry’s face turned red as she snorted loudly, which caused them both to laugh even more. The blonde wiped at her eyes with a sigh. “Oh my God, he tried to be so nice about it, but it was **so** uncomfortable every time we talked that day.” She shook her head with more giggles. 

Claire’s chuckles eased as she picked up her burger. Warmth burst through her chest. “That night…y’know he actually asked me if he needed to buy anything else for you?” She smiled at the memory: his shy, youthful face in the low-lit room. “He was so worried about you.” Her heartbeat skipped around as she gazed at the half-eaten food in her hands. 

Sherry giggled a few more times, picking at her fries. She smiled. “I’m not surprised.” A sigh fell from her lips. “…Honestly, the time we were all together…it was the best of my life.” 

Claire worried the bun in her fingers. “…I know that, Sherry,” she whispered. Her chest tightened horribly.

Sherry’s face turned somber. “I definitely imagined a different ending.” She chuckled sadly. “I had hoped we were all going to be together forever…as a family.” She hugged herself with a bashful smile. “Silly kid stuff, y’know?” 

“It’s not silly kid stuff,” Claire assured her with a smile. Her heart thrashed wildly. “We **are** family, Sherry.” 

“I know, but…well…you know what I mean,” Sherry added softly. 

They both stared at the table for a few minutes in silence. 

Claire was drowning as emotions raced through her along with all the memories. She took a deep breath, looking across the table at Sherry. “Yeah…” 

The girl’s head was slightly bowed, her eyes downcast. “I always wondered why you guys never..." she shifted uncomfortably before adding, "Do you think it would have been different if he hadn’t…y’know?” Her shoulders shrugged a bit as her eyes darted to the table. 

Pain slammed into Claire’s soul without warning. “Found out about Ada, you mean?” She sighed as she let the napkin drop to her plate. She clasped her hands together on the table, determined to stay away from the memory. “We did eventually…start seeing each other occasionally.” 

“What?” Sherry perked up immediately. 

“For…about seven years now, actually.” Claire chuckled awkwardly. _‘It sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud,’_ she thought. 

Sherry's lips split into a grin. "You guys have never mentioned dating.” 

Claire winced a bit. “No, not anything…serious…just…” She bit her lip. 

Sherry studied her before sucking in a breath. “Oh.” Her eyes dropped.

“Yeah.” Claire tapped her fingers on the table, Leon’s note springing to mind. _‘I need to get over my bullshit and call him…we have a lot to talk about,’_ she thought as goosebumps raised along her arms, _‘Why does that seem so goddamn_ **_hard_** _?’_

Sherry tilted her head, laying her cheek on her knuckles. “Nothing more than that?” her voice was quiet, “why?” 

Claire’s stomach ached as her mind bristled, _‘An unfairly valid question.’_ She let a few minutes pass, finally grunting as she stared down at her fingers. “Many reasons, Sherry. But I think for both of us it always came back to Ada,” she admitted. Claire rubbed her hands along her forearms, shaking it off. “We…still saw other people, just…” She sighed. 

Sherry’s eyes softened. “That’s…” She glared at her hands. “…I always wondered what he saw in her. He’s too good for her.” 

Claire smirked at the snarky loyalty in her girl’s tone, before noticing the sadness mixed in the expression. She nervously ran her fingers over the leg of her jeans. “I never figured it out.” Bile rose in her throat. “…But,” she stretched her neck to the side while closing her eyes, “…there must be **something** about her if she managed to keep Leon’s…attention.” 

Claire couldn’t **stop** the memories of being around Leon while he smelled like Ada’s disgusting perfume from entering her thoughts. She tried to shove them away. 

“If he cares so much about her, then why aren’t **they** together?” Sherry grumbled, snatching her soda. 

Claire’s mind flared **immediately** , and she crossed her arms. She huffed, **stampeding** onto the familiar battleground, “Oh, she’s **always** played around with him. Stringing him along just enough to ensure he was always her loyal little dog when she needed help getting her damn hands on something.” She glared at the table. “She’s hurt him…put him in danger, doesn’t matter how **helpful** she lets herself be…so clearly she doesn’t care **that** much.”

Her rage grew as she continued, “And god… **dammit** how many innocent people are dead because of her?! **Families**!”

Sherry startled at the outburst. 

Claire scowled, adding, “People killed by monsters created from viruses **she** sold to **terrorists**!” She took a deep breath, noticing the slight trembles in her hands.

Sherry watched her closely. “That sounds so cruel.” She whispered, “Poor Leon.” She set her glass down. “I think he **knows** that she’s bad news, but…” The girl softly grunted, laying her chin on her palm. 

Claire sighed, a flicker of pain in her chest. “Exactly.” She picked at her napkin mindlessly. “It’s like an alcoholic who knows they shouldn’t drink, but...” She clicked her tongue as she crossed her knees and swung her foot. 

Sherry settled back in her seat. She regarded Claire seriously as she spoke, “Does he know how you feel?” 

“Trust me, he **knows** how I feel about Ada Wong and her **job**.” Her glare tightened. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Sherry nibbled on a fry. 

Claire’s foot stopped swinging as she considered the question. Her gaze shot to Sherry. 

The girl gave her a knowing smile. 

Claire curled in on herself a bit. “I don’t—” she paused, her heart screeching at her. She struggled, emotions tickling at her. She stared at her plate as anxiety tightened her stomach. 

“…Because of Ada?” 

The anguish in Sherry’s tone caught her attention. Claire shifted in her seat. “I…I’ve denied it for so long,” butterflies fluttered in her stomach, “but…” She cradled her cellphone in her hand with a sigh. “I’ve been **trying** to get my head straight.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Claire softly laughed, her fidgeting increasing as excitement pulsed through her. “Well, he came to see me the other night,” she briefly glanced at Sherry, “y’know.” When the girl didn’t say anything, she continued, “Yesterday, he sent a… **ridiculous** amount of flowers to my office.” 

“Aww,” Sherry cooed, placing her chin in her palms. 

Claire squinted as she teased, “Stop with the puppy face.” 

Sherry stuck her tongue out a bit. “What do you expect…it’s…well, it’s Mom and Dad.” She giggled.

Claire’s skin tingled as affection crept through her. She never denied the joy she got when Sherry said things like that. 

Sherry waved her hand impatiently. “Anyway.” 

“Any **way** ,” Claire mocked, before taking a sharp breath. “He left a beautiful card, and,” she huffed bashfully, “he wrote that he loves me.” Warm tingles raced through her at the memory, and she found herself smiling. 

“What?!” Sherry grinned. Her eyes sparkled. “Well?!” 

“Well, what?” 

The young agent smacked her hand on the table. “So, what’d you **say**?!”

Claire paused, her smile fading back into anxiety. “Erm…we haven’t spoken yet.” She swung her foot nervously. 

Sherry stared, her mouth slightly gaped. “What?” 

“I’m…” Claire sighed, flapping her hand at Sherry's expression, “I know, I know.” She stared down at her cell phone. “Everything’s changed,” she finally admitted, “I…thought I knew exactly where I stood with him, but now…” She fidgeted with the phone. 

“He’s probably going crazy,” Sherry blew out a tiny huff with the accusation, “Clearly he’s in love with **you** and not **her** , Claire, so what are you waiting for?”

Claire paused in her fidgeting. Hope again tried to blossom in her chest at Sherry’s words. _‘He must have finally made a choice.’_ She sighed, a smile creeping onto her face. “It’s so ridiculous…but all these years, and…I can’t figure out what to say to him. Don’t even know where to start.” 

“That’s not true.” Sherry pointed at her. “You’re one of the bravest, smartest people I know.” She smirked, a childish glint in her blue eyes. “Now, either you call him or **I** will.” She pulled out her phone. 

Claire’s smile vanished, a slight bit of panic creeping into her. “Sherry.” The older woman tried to take the phone from her companion. 

“Trust me, I can make it **much** more embarrassing for you.” The blonde dodged her.

Claire sighed, leaning back into her chair as she considered her. 

Sherry’s eyes were bright with encouragement.

The redhead cracked a smile. “Alright, **fine**.” Claire laughed. “I’ll call him, just stop it, you brat.” She pulled up Leon in her contacts.

“Ask him out tonight.”

Claire paused at that. She grinned, shaking her head. “We’ve never been out on an actual date together…unless you count fundraisers.” She couldn’t stop the twinge of excitement that shot through her at the thought.

“It’ll be one heck-uh-va first date, then.” Sherry excitedly wiggled in her seat. 

She took a deep breath, tapping on the call button. Hesitation wiggled into her mind. She chuckled awkwardly. “He’d...probably laugh if I asked.” 

“Bologna.” 

Claire pursed her lips at the girl. Her pulse quickened as she listened to the ringing in her ear. _‘Jesus, why do I suddenly feel like a stupid teenager?’_

The call went to voicemail. 

“He didn’t answer.” She laid the phone down. Her mind wandered with possibilities, though she couldn’t deny the bit of relief she felt. _‘Coward,’_ she frowned at herself. 

“He’ll call back,” Sherry smiled, “no need to look so constipated.” 

“Watch it, blondie.” She jolted when her phone rang. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. 

“ **Told you** ,” the agent squealed, scraping her chair obnoxiously as she scooted it closer to her companion. At Claire’s warning gaze, she giggled. “I’ll behave, I swear!” 

Claire pepped herself, _‘This is stupid…it’s just Leon.’_ She stared at his number on the display. Her heart rate increased as the ringtone continued. Her fingers twitched as her mind hammered, _‘There’s no going back after this…what if he_ **_does_ ** _want an actual relationship now? Neither one of us has had one, and I…hadn’t ever really wanted one; they’re too messy.’_ Her heart squeezed painfully at the risk. _‘And dangerous.’_

She picked up the phone. 

His boyish grin flashed through her mind, along with hundreds of beautiful red flowers. Affection swelled through her. _‘He’s always been my exception, and...he must really be over her.’_ Her thumb twitched over the button. **_‘If_ ** _he wants a relationship...I think...I’m ready.’_

Her finger swiped the green button. 

“Leon,” she answered with a smile, narrowing her eyes at Sherry’s quiet cooing sounds. “…No, everything’s fine…actually, do you have plans tonight?” She noted the stiffness in both of their voices. _‘Christ, what the hell are we doing?’_ she worried to herself, _‘He sounds nervous.’_ Claire anxiously rolled her foot in a circle, her fingers tapping along her knee. “Well…I thought we should get together and… **talk.** ” She winced, _‘Jesus, I sounded so god damn ominous!’_

Before she could hear his response, Sherry’s hand shot out and snatched the phone from her. “Okay-I-lied,” she burst before squealing into the phone. “ **Leon**! Claire told me about all the flowers, and what you said…and you’d **better** take her on a date! And—” she dodged the redhead’s attempt at retaking the phone, “—it’s so perfect! And romantic! And—" 

“Way to hold the line, Sherry. Nice willpower,” Claire snarked, but was ignored. She again reached across the table, but stopped, observing the happiness on Sherry’s face as the girl rambled in Leon’s ear. _‘This means a_ **_lot_ ** _to her,’_ she realized.

Her eyes stung as Sherry’s much younger, tear-stained face in the moonlight flickered into her mind. Claire sucked in a breath. _‘Oh Sherry…please don’t tell me you ever blamed yourself…I couldn’t bear it.’_ A twinge of nearly forgotten yearning soothed through her. Her chest cramped as she pictured Leon’s little poem, and his confession. 

It was digging at things; things that she buried years ago. 

_‘I don’t want to go there,’_ Claire begged herself. She slowly relaxed back into her chair, letting the present-happiness on her girl’s face ease her away from the pain of the past. 

Sherry’s hand was waving wildly as she spoke, “—No, someplace classy.” Her face pinched. “That’s not funny, Leon.” She grinned bashfully after a few moments. “Leave Jake out of this…” Her gaze shot to the table as her cheeks reddened. “ **What** face?” 

Claire snickered as she nibbled on her fries. Her anxiety vanished as she listened to Leon tease Sherry. _‘Well, at least_ **_some_ ** _things never change.’_

  
  
  



	2. If you want Peace, Prepare for War

~2~

If you want Peace, Prepare for War

Featuring: Lady-Squad goals 

“Is all this really necessary?” Claire fidgeted in the kitchen chair. 

Rock music quietly drifted from her living room stereo. 

“Yes,” Sherry insisted with a giggle. She rummaged through the pile of makeup spread on the kitchen counter. 

A small sigh escaped Claire’s lips.  _ ‘You promised yourself you’d indulge her.’ _

Moira swiped a polish brush across the red-head’s fingernail, leaving a shiny trail of mocha. She popped a Dorito in her mouth. “I’m still fucking pissed at you.” Her words were garbled. “All the dick-faced losers you’ve fucked, and you kept the best story secret from me,” she jammed the brush into the polish bottle, “for  **years** .” 

Claire’s lips drew into a smirk. “The office gossips enough, and that includes you.” She raised her eyebrow. Her vision bounced to Sherry as she spoke, “Let’s not get carried away with that stuff.” 

“Don’t worry.” The blonde smiled over her shoulder. “You don’t need a lot of makeup.” 

Moira finished polishing the last nail. “Exactly, Claire. You’ve been riding the Holy Grail this whole time. You could’ve trusted me with the knowledge.” 

“I’d have sooner trusted you with the keys to my SUV again.”

“Savage,” Moira pouted, “...but maybe accurate,” she grudgingly added. 

“Holy Grail?” Sherry questioned. 

Moira laughed, her lips twisting fiendishly. “A lot of the bitches at work go into heat whenever  **Leon** shows up.” 

Sherry made a choking sound. “Eh?!” 

The young brunette stood from the table. “It’s fucking hilarious to see.” She stepped over to the curling iron sitting on the counter. “They might as well rename our building ‘Leon’s Dick Chasers HQ’.” She laughed before shoving more Dorito’s in her mouth. 

Claire pursed her lips.  _ ‘Yeah, hilarious,’ _ she thought. She crossed her knees. “I didn’t need to be public enemy number one around there.” 

“What do you mean?” Sherry wondered. Her face was pinched. 

Moira came over to stand behind Claire. She cackled. “Ah, such a naïve kitten…imagine a pissed off, super nosy brigade of cunts if they knew he’s  **actually** fucking someone from the office.” 

“Ugh!” Sherry waved her hands. “That’s horrible; are people really that nosy?!” 

“Yup; we all live for other people’s shit.” Moira started combing Claire’s red tresses. “…Damn, you should’ve been there last Summer when he showed up to the company BBQ…let’s just say a water hose was involved,” she flicked Claire’s ear playfully with her finger, “…and the hose had nothing to do with all the soaked panties.” 

“I definitely started something.” Claire chuckled, before immediately grimacing.  _ ‘It sure backfired when he was practically surrounded by thirsty women for the rest of the god damn afternoon.’ _ She bit her lip as the memory of Leon stripping off his wet t-shirt swam into her mind. She shifted in her seat.  _ ‘I  _ **_had_ ** _ to hose him down, though…I could smell  _ **_her_ ** _ perfume on him…’ _ she remembered painfully. Confidence crept into her chest.  _ ‘But that’s changed, now. It  _ **_has_ ** _.’ _

Moira laughed at Sherry’s horrified expression. “He’s like,” the brunette paused, her face screwed in thought, “the epithet of sex.” 

Claire snickered, followed by a reluctant sigh. “That he is.” 

“I don’t see him that way, it’s  **creepy** .” Sherry examined a tube of lip gloss. “He’s like my dad.” 

Moira’s hand paused. “…That’s really sweet.” 

Warmth spread throughout Claire’s limbs at their words. 

Sherry’s phone chirped. She made a happy noise as she looked at the screen. 

“What?” Claire wondered. 

The blonde tapped a few buttons. “Oh, I have some time off and decided to take a small vacation,” Sherry explained, “just got my flight booked.” 

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “Uh huh…out of the country, maybe?” 

“…Maybe.” 

“Tell Jake I said hello.” 

“Oh shush.” Sherry was blushing as she put the phone away. She approached the table. “So, what are you gonna wear?” Her face was aglow with excitement. 

Claire hummed as she tapped her drying fingernails on the table. “Was thinking about my teal knee-length.” 

Moira snorted. “Such a mom answer.”

“Hey.” Claire frowned in slight offense, suddenly feeling older. 

Sherry giggled and headed into the open area of the living room, where the vases from Claire’s office had been moved to. “I just can’t get over all these flowers.” Her fingers brushed along the red petals of the nearest bouquet. She sighed dreamily. 

Claire turned her head to follow her movements. 

“Stop moving.” Moira’s hand readjusted her. She picked up the curling iron. 

“Maybe you could wear a sexy dress?” Sherry suggested. “Like a slinky little black one,” her tone was scandalous. 

Claire considered it. She felt oddly reserved. “…Well, I don’t really want to look too hussied up while we’re dancing at the festival.” 

“You disappoint me, Claire,” Moira quipped. 

Sherry frowned. “Well…maybe a long one with a split?” She paused as she paced around the room. “…Well, you’re going to the restaurant afterwards…so definitely something classy.” She hummed in thought. “Also, what kind of shoes? Something sexy, but comfortable…” 

“It doesn’t need to be this complicated,” the red-head laughed, “it’s not like me and Leon are forging new frontiers, here.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced. 

Claire didn’t feel convinced, either.  _ ‘But we  _ **_are_ ** _ forging something new, right? We’re...we’re together now, right? Just me and Leon...nobody else, not Ada...not anyone.’ _ She became near light-headed from the sudden pulse of joy that swept through her. Its potency scared her a little as she shifted in her seat with a tense chuckle. “…I don’t want to seem like I’m desperately throwing myself at him.” She gestured at all the effort the two girls were putting into her.

“Claire, c’mon, what’s wrong with dressing up? This is an important date; like you said, it’s your  **first one** !” Sherry argued. 

The red-head noted the disappointment in her tone. Guilt flickered through her. She fidgeted, watching Sherry in the living room. Familiar pain aimed at the government swam through her chest, followed by familiar pain aimed at Leon and Ada. Tension started forming in her gut at the memories.  _ ‘Maybe all this was a mistake,’ _ she thought in a growing panic,  _ ‘I don’t know how to have a relationship...what if  _ **_she_ ** _ —’  _

“For fuck’s sake, Claire.” 

Moira’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

The brunette worked the iron through her hair as she continued, “If  **that** ,” she pointed to the vases in the living room, “isn’t him  **launching** himself at your feet like a hopeless  **dog** …” She snickered, before patting Claire on the shoulder. “Slut it up, bitch.” 

“ **He loves you** ,” Sherry added with an adorable squeal, fussing as she again ran her fingers across some of the roses. 

Shivers raced along Claire’s arms at their words, her anxiety easing a bit. She pondered,  _ ‘…Would it really be so bad, trying to impress him?’ _ A small smile took over her face.  _ ‘They’re right...he loves me, he said so...Ada’s history.’ _

Claire’s smile grew as she spoke, “…You kinda have a point.” Excited confidence began to bubble in her stomach as she kept Leon’s smiling face in her mind’s eye. The thought that he was now hers and nobody else’s flamed through her with an alarming strength. Her smile turned possessive. “Sherry…find me something  **red** .” 

“Ooh, now you’re talkin’,” Moira praised in approval. 

“Oh, absolutely.” Claire inhaled sharply as the perfect dress came to mind. “Actually, Sherry…back of my closet, there’s a scarlet off-the-shoulders mini-dress. Bring it here.” She clenched her fingers in her lap.  **_‘She’s_ ** _ ruined my color for so long…it’s time for me to get rid of that bitch from my life, for  _ **_good_ ** _ this time.’ _

“ **Spicy** .” Moira made a kissing sound. 

Sherry grinned and hurried to do what she was told. The blonde paused near the back hallway, turning around with a bashful look on her face. “Uh, y’know what jewelry would look good with that?” she fidgeted her fingers at her waist, “maybe a silver chain…or something…with a splash of red?” 

Claire smiled at the girl’s endearing hints, her heart squeezing. She couldn’t deny the  **yearning** to wear it again, her heart fluttering wildly. 

“It’s in my jewelry box.” 

***

Claire parked her SUV, her eyes taking in the various vehicles nearby. She didn’t see either his bike or his jeep.  _ ‘Still early, yet,’ _ she reminded herself as she exited. She pulled on the long, form-fitting sleeves of her dress as thunder gently rumbled overhead. 

She frowned in disappointment. _ ‘There wasn’t rain in the forecast…goddamn weather app.’ _ She wandered to the entrance of the large city-park, her strappy black heels clicking on the stone path. 

The sun had nearly set, and black-metal street lamps lit the walkway. Groups of people wandered the area, some staring at her appreciatively. She smiled at the flattery, her hand instinctively reaching up to pat at her soft, auburn curls. 

The trees lining the path rustled in the breeze, with some leaves blowing across the ground at her feet. Goosebumps prickled along her legs, the dark panty-hose doing nothing to shield her from the growing wind.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed shortly by more thunder.

She made her way toward the ornate white-stone bridge spanning the river. Faint instrumental tones drifted from further in the park where the music festival was taking place. She spied the elaborate tents in the distance, along with groups of people milling about. 

A lone, male figure was leaning on the bridge railing, staring out at the river. 

She moved closer, trying to see if it was him. 

A sharp wind blew, the man’s hair billowing about the side of his face. 

Disappointment  **rushed** through her as she realized it wasn’t him.

She neared the start of the bridge, coming to a stop when her phone rang. She smiled as she recognized Leon’s number on the display. “Hey, where are you?” she greeted as she meandered along the bridge, her fingers running along the railing. 

Lightning lit up the sky in the distance. 

“Claire.” 

His tone caused her to stop.

He went on, “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I have to cancel our plans tonight.” He sounded devastated. 

She  **felt** devastated, but it was quickly replaced with concern. “What happened?” 

He turned serious, “Was given a lead on one of Simmon’s former assistants.” 

Panic jolted through her. “Has there been an attack?” 

Groups of festival goers hurried along the bridge to escape the coming storm as more thunder rolled overhead.

“Nothing reported yet. We’ve been trying to get more info on the ‘Family’ and ‘Connections’ that Simmons had links to. Most of his contacts have scattered since his death, and they’ve been cleaning house, too. Emptied his office, his home,” he paused, “Surveillance spotted Travis Davidson near Bradshaw; a town in the Midwest. Some files indicated a possible location of one of Simmon’s labs there, so we’re preparing for a potential B.O.W. incident.” 

The name caused a flicker of recognition in her mind. A conversation with Sherry in the past.  _ ‘One of Simmon’s former aides,’ _ she remembered, struggling to place the name with a face. Claire tensed her fingertips on the stone rail. “Sounds serious. You need any help?” 

“Helena’s backing me up.” 

Lightning blazed across the sky, momentarily blinding the redhead. 

“Oh right, your new partner,” Claire remembered, “Still, I want to help you.” 

“Not sure what we’re walking into yet. I don’t know how widespread the Family is…I really don’t want you on their radar, Claire.” 

She sighed. “I’m not a helpless princess, Leon.” Inadequacy flickered in her chest. 

An amused huff, “Trust me, I know what Redfield’s are capable of.” 

She recognized the obvious attempts at mollifying her ego. Now she felt like a  **pampered** princess. It  **dug** at her pride. She laughed into the phone. “Sounds like you just don’t want me to one-up you in front of your new partner.” 

He chuckled. “Not on your best day,  **Redfield** .” 

“Oh, now I  **really** hope you get eaten.”

“You wound me, Claire…but trust me, I don’t need  **two** bossy women; B.O.W.’s are trouble enough.” He chuckled. “Besides, this could be a do-nothing mission if Travis gives himself up, and I know you have that fundraiser tomorrow.” He hummed softly as his tone turned fond, “Those people have an angel working for them.” 

Claire’s heart thrashed wildly at his charming words. She thought of the Terra Save children’s fundraiser tomorrow,  _ ‘Damn, he knows me too well.’ _ She smiled. “You’re very sweet…nice kill-shot,  **jerk** .” 

“I play to win.” 

She chuckled, followed by a sigh. “When do you leave?” 

“Soon; waiting for the official green light from Hunnigan.” 

She furrowed her brows. “It wasn’t an official mission?” 

“It is; waiting for verification because of the source…I got the lead from Ada.” 

Claire’s stomach  **dropped** .


	3. Duel of the Fates

~3~

Duel of the Fates

Featuring:

Emotion, yet peace.

Ignorance, yet knowledge.

Passion, yet serenity. 

“It is; waiting for verification because of the source…I got the lead from Ada.” 

“Oh?” she kept her voice calm. Just hearing the **name** on his lips caused her to dig her fingers into the stone railing. 

“I’m sorry, Claire. I know that’s not a name you ever want to hear, but I have to do my job.” 

She was taken aback with surprise at his honesty. She heard the undertones of concern in his voice. Her fingers came up to touch along her necklace. _‘He sounds worried.’_

She tried to assure him, “Of course; I understand. I would **never** tell you not to do your job because of that terrorist.” She couldn’t **resist** the familiar insult to Ada, or the biting tone that crept in. She bit her lip in shame at her cattiness. 

She was again surprised to actually hear him chuckle.

“Tell me how you really feel, sweetheart.” He sounded amused. 

It caused her to pause; this was **different** from his tension involving Ada in the past…when they usually ended with an argument or complete avoidance of the topic. 

His loaded words caused her heart to flutter. 

She tried to joke. “We’d be here all day talking about my hatred of that woman,” she couldn’t help admitting with a laugh. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he responded, “…I know.” 

His low tone caught her off guard. _‘Why does he sound so guilty?’_ she wondered. 

He sighed softly into the phone. “Claire…I know that she’s a minefield between us…always has been...” 

Her heart began pounding. _‘What does he mean by that? What’s he thinking about?’_

He went on, “I don’t want you to think I’m up to something, Claire; it’s the mission and nothing else…but…there **is** something else I have to tell you.” 

Her lips parted at his tone. 

He sounded like a man expecting a painful **death** in his immediate future. 

Her fingers clasped her necklace tighter as she tried to let it soothe her. “What is it?” Anxiety was coursing through her now, despite her attempts at calming herself. 

His exhale was audible. “She dropped in uninvited; snuck in here tonight through the window like a lost…goddamn **cat**.” 

Claire’s heart rate increased as she listened to him, her mind swirling with images of Ada being in Leon’s apartment.

“…But I owed her. She saved my life over in China, Helena’s too. Worked together to take down Simmons…so I figured I could at least look at the evidence she’d brought.” 

As much as she hated the woman, she allowed the gratitude to her for his life to bloom. “I’m really glad to hear that she helped you over there, Leon.”

When he didn’t answer, she felt guilty. _‘Is he surprised? I’m not_ **_that_ ** _bitchy, Leon.’_ She tried to ease the tension. “But, if you’re waiting for me to throw Ada a **parade** , then you can kiss my ass, Kennedy,” she couldn’t help joking. 

His sudden laugh was beautiful to her ears. 

“I’d never ask you to do that.” He sighed after a few beats, his tone turning deadly serious, “Claire.”

Her heart jolted. She listened as the silence wore on. 

He exhaled loudly. “She…put her hands on me tonight. Came onto me. I stopped it, stopped **her** …but...I **had** to tell you, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

Distress **blasted** through her as images of him and Ada tortured her. This was something she’d feared, that Ada would **always** be an issue. That Ada would **always** be between them. Her mind immediately began swirling with _‘I told you so’s.’_

Silence stretched as she battled Ada inside her soul, _‘I thought this goddamn war was over…’_

She tried to get a hold of herself. She struggled, clasping her fingers tighter around her necklace. _‘Claire, focus.’_ Her breathing calmed as she recovered from the initial blow. _‘He’s clearly not wanting to hide_ **_anything_ ** _from you now that you’re together…relax…he’s not with_ **_her_ ** _; he loves_ **_you_ ** _. He said he stopped her; he would_ **_never_ ** _hurt you like_ **_that_ ** _.’_

She firmly clung to that truth, focusing on Leon, instead of Ada. _‘If he were up to something, he could have easily hid this from me.’_

She steeled herself before speaking, “Wh—” her throat tightened; she swallowed a few times, “What happened?” 

She heard him softly sigh.

_‘He sounds so relieved...’_ Claire slightly bristled. _‘Was he expecting me to completely explode at him?’_ She couldn’t deny the flicker of shame she felt, knowing that **that** was the usual outcome of **any** discussion involving Ada. She hummed, trying to put him at ease as she spoke softly, “It’s okay, Leon; you can talk to me.” 

“I…okay, Claire.” 

She smiled now, at the sheer relief in his tone. _‘He should_ **_always_ ** _be able to come to me with anything,’_ she thought with firm dedication. 

When he didn’t say anything else, she chuckled. “So? Tell me where the bad lady touched you,” she urged him on in amusement. 

His laughs were sweet bells to her ears. 

He quieted, sounding annoyed, “She kept touching my neck…and messing with my tie for one…I can be an idiot at times when it comes to women...”

She couldn’t stop the tiny smile at that.

“…But I’m not brain-dead, Claire.”

Her lips pursed as her mind helpfully provided her with an image of Ada fondling him. “I see.” She couldn’t deny that this was hard to listen to, but again, she forced her focus outside of herself and Ada _._ She softly laughed again to keep him at ease. “Why did she keep messing with your **tie**?” 

She jolted at his frustrated bark, “She claimed that my knot wasn’t **big** enough for my shirt style…what the hell was **that** supposed to mean? Like I’m not a thirty-six-year-old man who knows how to dress himself, and—" 

Claire listened in shock to his familiar vanity on full display. 

His ranting **ego**. 

…It was beautiful to her. 

_‘It’s nice to hear him actually complaining about Ada for once.’_ Her chest squeezed in spiteful amusement, followed by guilt. _‘She_ **_is_ ** _a minefield between us…more like a solar flare_ **_any_ ** _time she’s mentioned…I’m always so angry…’_

He was **still** complaining, “—And maybe I didn’t **want** a full Windsor knot. Maybe I was going for a certain look, and I **know** how to look damn good, Claire, and—" 

She snorted at his offended tone, her stomach fluttering as one of the formal-dress charity auctions came to mind, when she’d gifted him a beautiful, silky charcoal-colored tie. She chuckled into the phone. “Hmm, was it a Balthus knot?” 

“—either way, it was none of her damn business," he paused his rant before chuckling, “I’m impressed, Redfield.” 

She laughed. “What can I say, I’m practically a genius.” Her lips curved arrogantly as affection surged through her chest. _‘I’m onto you now, Kennedy.’_ Peace began to settle through her. _‘Things seem clearer without Ada constantly clogging my brain with her_ _annoyingly fabulous_ _...impractical shoes.’_

Claire furrowed her brows. _‘He was_ **_really_ ** _worried about that.’_ She spoke, concern for him filtering into her tone, “You’re…really wound up about this.”

He sighed uncomfortably. “She hasn’t...pulled anything like that for years, and I wasn’t expecting it.” 

That shocked her. Confusion swam through her mind, _‘For years? I thought they—’_

He added tensely, “When I told her to knock it off, she put her hands on me; came onto me…and asked if I kept her makeup for her.” 

She **immediately** tried to kill the image that flew to her mind. Claire’s brows narrowed as her mind refused to cooperate, _‘While I was getting ready for our date...he was with_ **_her_ ** _...he stopped it...but he was still with_ **_her_ ** _.’_ She struggled to control her bristling. “Her makeup?” 

He made a thoughtful sound. “In Lanshiang…she left evidence on Simmons behind for me to find—" 

“What an **angel** ,” Claire interrupted obnoxiously. She wanted to shoot at the woman’s sexy ...bullshit heels and watch her **dance**. She inhaled sharply, realizing that she was devolving into her familiar raging regarding him and Ada. She released a cleansing breath. “Sorry, go on,” she soothed, trying to regain her peaceful calm. 

He remained silent for a few moments before grunting. “It was hidden inside one of those round things you **women** like to keep makeup in,” he teased. A sigh came through the phone. “I didn’t take **that** , Claire, just the evidence…I found out later that Helena did, when she gave it to me the next day.” 

“Helena did?” Claire’s confusion kept growing. 

“She…said it was obvious that Ada wanted me to follow her, and that I should keep it for when I ran into her next.” His tone turned heavy, “Claire…I’ve never known what the hell Ada might want from me, and…I haven’t cared to know,” he paused with a heavy sigh, “…for over fourteen years, sweetheart.”

She sucked in a breath, her emotions jolting at his words. She didn’t want to go back there; refused. This was definitely **not** the night she’d had in mind when she was being dolled up with the girls hours before.

Her mind again prickled with cold, moonlit memories.

_‘No,’_ she attempted to shove them away. “And **did** you?” She swallowed against her harsh tone. “Keep it, I mean,” she added, softer. 

“I threw it away, Claire.” 

Her chest flittered with spiteful glee, _‘Bet that pissed the bitch off.’_ She took a deep breath, trying to maintain the distance between herself and her anger. “Did you tell her that?” 

“I did. I reminded her there was nothing between us, and never would be. I don’t love her, Claire; never have.” 

His confession floored her. _‘Never?’_ She considered his tone. _‘He sounds like he’s waiting to die for telling me all of this.’_ Shame bubbled in her chest. _‘If he told me all this a few days ago...I don’t know if I would have listened…’_ She inhaled deeply as silence stretched. _‘He’s waiting for my judgement on him…’_

She tapped her fingers along the bridge rail as rain started to sprinkle on her. She didn’t feel right; everything felt **off** involving Ada tonight…and maybe **ever** . His words kept tickling at her soul, _‘I don’t love her; never have. She hasn’t tried anything like that for years.’_

She heard the truth in his voice, and couldn't **make** herself deny it. She continued to force herself past her explosive emotions involving Ada, making her brain take over for her, to look beyond herself, to see him. 

She remembered all the times he’d avoided talking about Ada. She could admit that she never wanted to listen to **anything** she didn’t want to hear about the woman. She was too angry about Ada’s thievery, the way she uses him. Hurts people. Hurts **him**.

Claire had always understood that **he** was just in denial. Ada’s smell on his collar **always** told the story. That he’d always want **her** , see **her** , despite the horrible things she’s done. 

Despite everything. 

And everyone. 

His young face in the moonlight outside the hotel flashed through her mind like lightning. 

She sucked in a breath. _‘I don’t want to go there anymore.’_

Her mind denied her. 

Sherry’s tear-streaked face. Her sobs, “You said we’d stick together!” 

Claire struggled to get away from the memory. 

Heavy snowfall. 

It was cold on her skin. 

Old rage flickered at her, _‘How could he have chosen that witch?’_

Sherry’s cries, “But she’s a liar, Leon!” 

She tried to again force the images away, but couldn’t stop them. 

The colored, blinking Christmas lights in the front window of the hotel. 

The half-built sled leaning beside the door. 

The drooping snowman near where they stood.

The heartbreak in Sherry’s eyes. “But you **promised**!” 

They’d discovered evidence that Ada was alive...and he wanted to go after her. 

The severe agony in Claire’s **soul** when he’d left. She ached to deny it, re-bury it, to get away from that bitter night forever...but she knew it was true. She wasn’t able to keep it locked away any longer. 

Her heart **burst** with the denied yearning. 

It nearly took her breath away with its potency, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

Like Sherry, she’d wanted the three of them to become an **actual** family. Leon and Sherry were **already** family to her, then. She’d bonded **strongly** in those three months. But she hadn’t understood that at the time. All she could focus on then was Sherry’s pain. 

She remembered his face that night as Sherry ran sobbing from him. “You lied…go away!” 

His agony, “Sherry, wait!”

Her agony, “...Is that Viper’s kiss so **sweet**...” 

His hopes, “...I have to know...” 

His pleas, “…Tell her I’ll be back…I promise...”

The sting of her palm against his cheek. “Don’t make promises to her; you clearly can’t keep them.” 

The slamming of a door.

Her girl was suffering…and so was she. Her heart had completely withered that night, her soul dying over the next few days in his absence. The feeling had terrified her, and scarred her in ways she **never** wanted to feel again. 

Three miserable days had passed before the government came. 

She hissed, her left side burning from the memory. She forced her vision to focus on the rain-pelted river in front of her, letting it ease her away from the pain as she took a deep breath. 

Her chest tightened painfully as she considered him and his words back then, followed by his poem and flowers, and his words tonight. She couldn’t keep her heart buried anymore, it was too late...he made it impossible, now...to go back. **_‘Damn_ ** _you, Leon…I never wanted to risk it. Never wanted to feel…_ **_anything_ ** _like that…ever again.’_

A tear trailed down her cheek as she stared at the river. 

_‘…But I never stopped, did I? I tried…by burying myself.’_

_‘Meaningless dates with meaningless men.’_

_‘Work.’_

_‘Sherry.’_

_‘…Hating Ada.’_

_‘...Seeing Leon.’_

Her lips curved wryly. _‘I just couldn’t resist him, even though he wanted_ **_her,_ ** _loved_ **_her_ ** _...even if it was just our bodies…but...it never was, was it?_ ’ She glared at the water. _‘I hurled myself into Ada Wong’s flames just to be_ **_near_ ** _him.’_

His voice sang to her, _‘I don’t love her, Claire; never have.’_

_‘I’ve waited fourteen years for Ada to finally take him away...because I never let myself hear him. Really hear him. Ever. Even back then.’_

Regret **swelled** in her chest. 

_‘He’s my best friend above_ **_everything_ ** _else…closer than that. We’re_ **_family_ ** _…always have been, since the night we met. I should have been there for him better over the years. He deserved to be heard.’_

Pain ached through her. _‘I’ve treated him horribly at times because of Ada, because she uses his good nature to further her thievery, her…job…because I hated_ **_her_ ** _, I took it out on_ **_him_ ** _.’_

She considered him, and her own heart, carefully. His words came back to her. The truth she heard in them. _‘I never considered that he was never in love with Ada…how could he not be?’_ Guilt and regret swam through her heart. _‘Even if he was…he never deserved to_ **_burn_ ** _for it.’_

Regardless of anything else, she **needed** him to know that she was there for him, **now** . That she hears him, **now**. That they were a unit, a family.

She started, her voice heavy, “Leon…”

“Claire?”

She smiled, hoping to ease the tension in his voice. “I won’t lie, Leon, this has been hell to listen to…especially tonight…but I’m really happy we talked about it...I **never** want you to hide anything from me, and I would **never** hide anything from you.” She blinked against more stinging in her eyes. “I can only imagine how much hell this has been for you, too...I know I haven’t been...fair in the past...but I want you to know you can always tell me anything. Always.” 

Her chest lightened considerably as she took a deep breath. She heard a soft sound through the phone. She wasn’t sure what it was.

“You’re right about that; it’s been Hell,” he added with a harsh grunt, “always has been.”

She furrowed her brows at the last bit, at the anger she heard in his tone.

He went on, “I know how it **sounds** …and **looks** tonight, Claire,” he grunted in pained frustration, “I’m sorry…I don’t know what the hell Ada thought she was doing.” He sounded like he was still awaiting death at Claire’s hands. 

She pursed her lips, considering Ada and everything Leon told her tonight. _‘I’m beginning to think I do…did you find out about our date, Ada? Find out about_ **_me_ ** _?’_

The question made her skin crawl. She struggled with the overwhelming disdain for the woman in red as it flared back like a wildfire. _‘Are you so desperate to keep him as your useful idiot? Your loyal dog? What did you think you were doing?’_

Her stomach cramped painfully as the mission sprang to her mind, _‘Oh, and it_ **_worked_ ** _, you bitch. Gave him an offer he_ **_couldn’t_ ** _refuse…because you know he’s a good…_ **_goddamn man_ ** _.’_

Her eyes wrenched shut as fifteen years of hatred for the woman threatened to boil over, _‘How_ **_dare_ ** _you use his job to try and slit his throat like this…do you even care how much pain you’ve caused him tonight? Of course you don’t, you_ **_never_ ** _have, you’re only interested in whatever the hell’s in that lab!’_

Her fingers ached, and she realized she was gripping the stone railing. **Hard**. Her hand was trembling violently. 

Claire tried to relax by letting hundreds of red flowers flood her mind’s eye. She focused her breathing. The skin left bare from her off-the-shoulder designed dress chilled against the increasing rain. She stared at the river as raindrops disturbed the surface. 

“Leon, listen…of course I want you to be able to do your job, like I said. She’ll **always** be involved one way or another, I know this. She’s a greedy, **murderous** mercenary.” She bit her lip. _‘This isn’t about that,’_ she reminded herself. 

  
  


She got to the point, letting affection take over her voice, “I also know that you’re a good man, Leon, one of the best. I trust you…and I hope you trust **me** . I’ll never trust **her** …but of course I trust you, Leon. **Always**.” Her pulse surged happily as she realized how firmly she meant that.

She heard his sharp inhale. 

Seconds passed in the quiet rainfall.

“...That means a hell of a lot to me, Claire...to hear you say that…and I trust you, sweetheart; of **course** I do.” 

Her stomach fluttered at his heavy tone as solidarity with him swirled through her. 

She felt light. 

At peace. 

She left Ada behind on the old battlefield, looking to the future, instead.

A future with **him**. 

She began her trek back to her SUV as the rain picked up. 

She smiled, wanting to lift his spirits before he left. “Don’t be gone long, you jerk.” A laugh bubbled from her as she teased him, “And don’t get killed…you owe me dinner **and** dancing… **and** an evening activity of my choice, **just** for the inconvenience,” she joked, before adding, “I even wore an amazing dress…which is getting rained on.” She clicked her tongue obnoxiously. “This night just **isn’t** our night.” 

Silence, before a chuckle eventually reached her ear. “…An amazing dress, huh?” 

She smirked at his take-away. “Yep…it’s tiny…and tight…and **wet** .” She **knew** that would get his attention. 

He groaned. “If there was a woman who was worth letting the world burn for…” he trailed off with a low hiss and a chuckle. 

Claire smiled. “Sounds like Hell,” she hassled him sweetly. “Be careful, okay?” 

“Count on it, sweetheart…I promise I’ll make this up to you when I get back. **Anything** you want, we’ll do it.” 

Shivers raced across her flesh at the relief she heard in his voice, _‘Was he really afraid that I’d throw him away tonight because of her?’_ It made her feel terrible. _‘Is that what you were hoping for, Ada?’_

Claire shoved Ada off a cliff in her mind.

She spoke her truth with allure, “Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s with you, Leon.” She ended the call, smiling as she tucked the phone away. _‘A relationship...I can do this._ **_We_ ** _can do this.’_ Her mind returned to the mission, _‘Please, be safe.’_ Claire hurried back to her SUV, his safety running through her mind as the rain turned into a downpour. 

She hadn’t met Helena, but from what she’d heard, she sounded capable. It didn’t do much to quell her worries. She despised Bio-Terror; everyone she loved led dangerous lives. 

She was soaked, sitting in her vehicle and listening to the water pound against the windshield. Her chest ached, and her fingers trembled slightly from the cold rain as she turned the ignition. His beautiful smile came to her mind. _‘I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a hell of an agent. The best.’_

Her stomach cramped with worry, despite trying to assure herself, _‘He’ll be fine.’_

*

Claire detoured her drive home to pick up take-out for him, worrying that he’d be going without dinner. _‘I_ **_need_ ** _to see him off…I don’t want_ **_Ada_ ** _to be the last thing we talk about in case_ —' 

Her jaw clenched as she derailed the train of thought. _‘He’ll be_ **_fine_ ** _.’_


	4. Dancing with our Devils in the Pale Moonlight

~4~

Dancing with our Devils in the Pale Moonlight

Featuring:

Cleansing the stains of a sleeping cancer.

Claire detoured her drive to pick up take-out for him, worrying that he’d be going without dinner. _‘I_ **_need_ ** _to see him off…I don’t want_ **_Ada_ ** _to be the last thing we talk about in case—’_

Her jaw clenched as she derailed the train of thought. _‘He’ll be_ **_fine_ ** _.’_

She hated the worrying. Every mission her family went on…Leon, Chris…and now even Sherry.

* 

Roast beef sandwiches in tow, she pulled into a parking spot outside his apartment building. The rain had not let up, and she struggled to make the dash to the entrance in her heels. 

The lobby was quiet as she made her way to the elevator. 

Her wet shoes slid on the black and white tiled floor. 

“Jee-zus!” Claire nearly wiped out, managing to maintain her balance, but not without gaining a run in her hose. “Oh, how the hell…” she groaned as she examined the damage to her panty hose.

She frowned down at her traitorous heels during the elevator ride, her free hand trying to make her drenched hair more presentable. _‘I look like a drowned rat,’_ she thought in disappointment. She felt bad about all the effort Moira had put into her hair; ruined now by the rain. 

She stepped out of the lift and onto his floor. Faint noises drifted from a few of the apartments she passed. She stood in front of his door, her hand re-adjusting the wet fabric of her dress. **_‘Not_ ** _the impression I was wanting to make tonight.’_

She frowned at her appearance. 

She took a deep breath and knocked. _‘What do I say? Are we_ **_officially_ ** _together now?’_ She immediately felt stupid after that last thought. Her mind continued to whirl as she heard the door unlock. 

Claire smiled radiantly as the door opened, her mind stalling when she looked at him. He was sharp: royal-blue dress shirt with opened collar, black vest and slacks. His tactical gear was strapped over his clothes.

The brief surprise on his face vanished as his eyes lit up. 

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. 

His gaze morphed to something darker as his powder-blue eyes drank in her appearance. “Really rubbin’ salt in the wound,” his tone lowered, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Her heart pitter-pattered at his words, and she felt oddly shy under his intense stare. She struggled for calm. “Well, I’m trying to rock the ‘drenched-rat hobo-glamor’ look,” she joked.

She ignored the disbelieving smile on his face. 

She went on, “Thought I’d send the **dashing hero** off with a full stomach,” she wiggled the take-out bag at him before her smile turned dangerous, “and maybe some dirty thoughts to **remind** you of what you’re skipping out on tonight.”

His smile sharpened into a smirk, his gaze falling to her cleavage as he waved her inside. His eyes softened. “You still have it,” he murmured incredulously. 

Her fingers automatically touched at the delicate ruby and diamond necklace as she stepped past him into the apartment. _‘He recognized it?’_

Nostalgic affection flooded her as her mind warped her over fourteen years to a pawn shop the three of them stopped at on the road.

She turned to face him. “I…have everything you’ve ever given me, Leon.” Admitting it out loud like that made her feel like a love-sick teenager. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. _‘I_ **_was_ ** _one…and I never stopped being one, I see that now.’_

His arms reached for her, one wrapping around her waist. His other hand cupped the side of her neck as he leaned in. “Claire.”

His deep tone was brimming with something she couldn’t recognize as his lips caressed against her cheek, but it made electricity **flood** through her body. She ran her free hand up his chest, trailing along the pouches of his gear. She pressed forward, meshing her wet frame against his body as their lips met. Her heart **surged** with long-repressed emotions trying to break free as her fingers tangled along the back of his neck. _‘I feel so_ **_free_ ** _with him, now.’_

A groan rumbled from his throat as his tongue swiped into her mouth. His hand ran down the side of her neck and along her bare shoulder, the material of his glove sending shivers across her damp flesh. A tiny gasp ripped from her mouth when his other hand landed on her butt, clasping her body tightly against him. 

“Leon,” she moaned between breaths before he pressed his lips against hers more insistently. 

His hand roamed up her spine, the silky material of her dress sliding against her skin. His other hand cupped the back of her neck, keeping her pulled close. She felt dizzy as his deep kiss turned frantic, her head leaning back into his grasp.

The phone at his belt rang, singing through the silence of the room. 

Claire wasn’t proud of the whine that sneaked out of her throat at the interruption. 

She forced herself away from his lips before petulantly pressing her mouth against the side of his neck. She noted curiously that his face was only half-shaven as she gently kissed along his flesh. She inhaled deeply, before pausing. Her fingers tightened on the take-out bag as she eased back. She struggled to shake it off, _‘That’s not his aftershave.’_

Leon’s breaths were unsteady as he slowly pulled away from her with a soft growl. “I’m really considering the ‘letting it burn’ option,” he husked.

Claire watched him go further into the living room, his demeanor now screaming ‘business’. 

He grunted firmly as he answered the phone, “Hunnigan.”

“Leon, you have the go-ahead for the mission…” the handler responded on speaker, but Claire stopped listening. 

She couldn’t deny the smell of jasmine and cherry on his neck. Her chest exploded with familiar trauma as her mind battered her: The first time they had sex. The night of the Motocross pay-per-view. The BBQ at Terra Save. The night they met in Raccoon…the memories went on. Some of the best and worst times of her life were **riddled** with the smell of Ada Wong’s perfume.

She wasn’t ready for it. 

The scent was a .44-level kill-shot. 

She shook her head as nausea crept in; inhaled unsteadily as her limbs trembled. Her hand caressed her necklace like a soothing stone as she watched Leon.

He was still on the phone, packing gear into a duffel bag on the coffee table.

_‘Relax, Claire…he told you what happened.’_ She took a deep breath, letting herself get over the initial shock, _‘Claire, focus.’_ It was still Hell on her, though.

She gazed past him, to the balcony window that was still open. _‘Bet that’s where she came in…what an overly-dramatic bitch.’_ Claire moved her legs, hating the slight wobbliness in them as she headed past him. 

She rounded the large breakfast bar and into the kitchen area. Her nose itched as she registered a heavier smell of Ada’s perfume in the kitchen. She glanced around, noting a black sport-coat laid out on the counter, next to a neck-tie and a velvety rectangle box. She set the take-out bag on the counter before picking up the tie. 

_‘Oh…it is_ .’ She smiled warmly, running her fingers along the silky, charcoal-hued neck-tie. She let it calm her as her mind swam with memories from that fund raiser. The way she felt when he danced with her...the way she **always** feels when they dance...when she’s in his arms.

“Sorry about that.” 

She looked up, viewing Leon over the bar where he was doing a check on his pistol. Her eyes roamed his form affectionately. “Don’t be,” she assured him, “You set to go?” 

He holstered his gun. “Once Helena gets here.” 

She hummed, laying the tie back onto the counter. “Well, you’re not going like **that** , are you?” 

As she expected, he bristled. “Like what?”

She smirked at his predictable vanity. “Oh, just figured you’d want to finish shaving, is all.”

His eyes narrowed as his hand rubbed at his jaw. 

She laughed. “I’m guessing you were interrupted by a kitty cat.” Her mind added, _‘I don’t want you smelling like_ **_her_ ** _.’_

He huffed loudly, grumbling under his breath as he immediately headed towards the back hallway. “…no privacy…” 

She struggled to hear him.

“…man can’t shave in peace…like she **owns** the place.”

Claire heard the bathroom faucet turn on. 

She jumped when she heard him yell, “Man’s home is supposed to be his **castle** , Claire!” 

She snorted, moving to unpack the sandwiches from the bag. Afterwards, she picked up the dark-purple velvet box, gently opening it. 

“Did you buy me a present?!” she yelled so he could hear her. She ran her fingers over the delicate bracelet. It was silver, with tiny, dangling angel charms, each with a different colored stone in them. “You didn’t have to do that!” she added, feeling a little embarrassed. She set the box back on the counter, wandering over to the sink to wash her hands before eating. 

She let the water run over her fingers as she scrubbed, her eyes blinking when lightning flashed across the window. It drew her attention to a splash of color near the sink. 

She quickly dried her hands before picking up the thin low-ball next to his heavy-glass whiskey decanter. Her eyes narrowed on the bright red crescent of lipstick on the rim. 

Angry jealousy flared through her. 

“Sure made yourself at home, Ada,” she hissed, “What happened? You sense the Game Over screen? It’s all fun and games until he takes a woman dancing, hm? Did you see my pretty bracelet?”

The immediate thought of that woman **actually** touching her bracelet **stabbed** at her. 

Her fingers tightened as her mind raged, _‘Did you really think he’d be swayed...or were you hoping that I’d get pissed, toss him at your feet and run?’_

Fury at Ada and herself flared, _‘Of course you did, it’s what I’ve_ **_always_ ** _done, haven’t I? Not anymore, bitch, our little war is over; he’s_ **_mine_ ** _.’_

She gasped as the glass busted in her hand. 

Her left palm **screamed** with sharp pain. 

“Shit.” She let the glass shards fall to the counter as she cleared the wounded area. Luckily it was a clean cut, with no tiny shards. She felt humiliated; Ada **still** got to her. 

“Like buying you pretty things, Claire. Always have.”

She startled at Leon’s strangely bashful tone, registering that he was entering the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at him.

He did a silly flourish with his hands as he drew attention to his face. “Better?” he purred. 

Her heart was still pounding as she clenched her wounded hand into a fist. She hurried to him. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she teased as she ran her right hand along his smooth face. She pecked her lips along his jaw, inhaling his familiar spicy aftershave. **All** her senses came alive at the scent. “Mm, much better,” she rasped, “you smell like you, now, and not **her**.” 

He startled for a second before tensing. “I didn’t even think about that.” 

Claire was lost in a haze of her favorite smell. “Hmm, that’s cause you’re a man,” she joked as she nuzzled along his neck. She added, “Just…painfully familiar with the smell of her disgusting perfume, that’s all.”

“Claire, I’m sorry,” he soothed, his hands cautiously gripping her waist.

She hummed, snuggling closer to him.

His breath hitched after a moment. “You **know** the smell of her perfume? **I** don’t even—” he chuckled. “That’s…a little impressive, Sherlock…and a bit disturbing.” 

Claire bristled at his amusement. “What can I say?” she pressed against him, “Nobody on this **planet** is as obsessed with Ada Wong as I am.” She couldn’t keep the bite out of her tone as memories prickled at her brain. 

She felt his body tense.

Claire’s fingers lightly raked along his jaw. “…I used to wonder why you’d show up sometimes, smelling like **her**.”

Silence pressed around them as the seconds ticked by. 

He eventually grunted. “You ever been in a fight with her?”

Claire’s brow twitched. _‘Not in the physical sense…but go on.’_ She leaned back and looked at him. 

“She’s fast…and in your face like an angry goddamn hornet…few of my scars are from her.” 

Claire didn’t appreciate the amusement in his eyes, nor the bit of pride that slipped into his tone. “Well forgive me for not bursting into flame with **praise** for her ability to hurt you.”

His expression faded. 

Regret stabbed at her. _‘Stop being so goddamn angry about her.’_ She took a deep, calming breath. “Enough about that, **you** need to eat something,” she scolded as she smiled up at him. She turned towards the counter where the food was.

“Claire, wait.” He grasped her hands.

She hissed when he touched her cut. 

“What’s wrong?” He pulled her hands to look. 

Her left palm was bloody. 

“It’s just…” she stumbled over words, feeling ashamed about her outburst earlier with the glass. 

His eyes were unfocused as he stared at her injury. 

She inhaled. “I just…had a fight with some glass, is all. No big deal. I’ll clean it up; you should eat.” She laughed and pulled against his grasp. 

He blinked a few times. “…That’s a nasty cut,” he muttered, his brows furrowing. He released her hand to dig into one of his pouches.

She pursed her lips as he hurried and unpacked a small aid kit. “Calm down, Romeo,” she huffed, picking up the disinfectant and heading to the sink. She began cleaning the wound.

A peak over her shoulder revealed him laying out gauze and dressings. She turned back to the sink with a scoff. 

She heard him moving around at her side.

Her pride **burned** at his mother-henning. She sighed. “Jesus, Leon, would you **relax** . I’ve had a **hell** of a lot worse; it’s just a cut—" 

She startled when she heard a loud crash, her adrenaline spiking. Her gaze shot to him.

He was facing away, his hands pressed heavily into the breakfast bar, his shoulders hunched with tension. 

Her heart pounded as she looked around. She registered that the decanter was gone. Her eyes darted, finally landing past him to the hole in the wall, on the **far** side of the living room. 

She flared with concern as she headed towards him. “Leon.” 

“When’s it gonna be enough?” 

She paused at his low tone, before diverting towards the bandage roll. She began wrapping her hand. She huffed quietly, “Obviously me and Ada still have issues, okay? That’s between me and her...and I wish you’d stop acting like I’m bleeding to death.” 

He hissed as he immediately shoved from the counter. His posture was tense as he muttered angrily, “Never should have forced you to deal with this bullshit.” He stiffly walked past her and around the bar, entering the living room. 

“What the hell’s **that** supposed to mean?” She tied the bandage before trailing after him.

“How much is enough? She’s always gonna be…” he trailed off as he went to the far end of the living room, scooping up the heavy decanter from the floor. He mumbled, “She’s like a bad penny…God dammit, it’s not worth it, Clare.” 

It slipped out, “Fuck you!” She glared at his back as he stood facing the wall. Her hackles were sky-high. “Did you think I’d adjust easily? I fucking **hate** her, Leon!” It hurt her soul to know that it was true. She truly **hated** that woman.

“I know you do, Claire!” His head bowed against the wall. “It’s easier to hate her than to hate me!”

Her stomach flipped violently in confusion. She word-vomited, “What...I don’t...I’ve never hated you...where the **hell** do you—"

“Sherry.”

She gaped at his back.

His hand came up to unsteadily rest against the wall. “…I should’ve been there.” 

Her mind raced wildly. Her heart eventually startled as she realized what he meant. “Leon…there wasn’t **anything** you could’ve done to stop them! I don’t blame you for that, and of course I don’t hate you, you idiot! And you can’t blame **yourself** for those government bastards taking her, you couldn’t have known they were coming—" 

“I should’ve known! Umbrella was **already** sniffing around! Of course they’d find her again! I **should’ve** known... **been** there to protect her from those bastards! Protect my family!” His fist **slammed** into the wall, leaving a large crack. 

Chills raced through her at his outburst. She studied him as confusion swirled in her mind, _‘Why is he saying Umbrella...he knows it was the government that took her that night.’_ Her left side ached as her mind kept trying to force her back to that cold night on the bloody floor of the hotel room.

She pressed her bandaged hand over the scar, keeping herself focused.

“Leon…you couldn’t have stopped the government from taking her that night, trust me.” Old nightmares re-surfaced. “You would have tried! I know you! And you would’ve been shot, too! Killed—” 

His fist flurried, crashing into the wall over and over. 

Her heart pounded as she watched his fury. 

He slowed, his gloved-hand trembling as he pressed his palm to the damaged wall. “Thought you were dead, Claire…when I found you...I thought you were dead. Died alone cause of **me**.”

Her breath hitched. **_‘He_ ** _found me? I just remember…waking up in the hospital alone. He came back?’_ She couldn’t bear the thought of him finding all the dead bodies in the hotel that night…thinking that she was one of them. 

“Leon, Jesus…I…” 

“Just…” He slowly turned and slammed his back against the wall. His hand swirled the decanter lid expertly as he slid down to slump on the floor. He knocked back a large swig before muttering, “Just go…got a job to do.” His eyes glazed over. “Just go.” 

The familiar detachment in his eyes alarmed her. It had been a **while** since she’d seen him this way. 

She forced herself calm for him. “Leon.” She stepped across the living room. _‘So many demons for one man…it’s just too much.’_ Pain for him surged through her chest. _‘…I never knew about_ **_these_ ** _demons, though.’_

His gaze was so far-away. “You’ve bled enough,” he whispered unsteadily. He threw back more whiskey. “It’s enough.” 

She was no stranger to his retreats.

She needed to help him back. 

_‘Okay, Claire…stay soft…quiet, make him_ **_focus_ ** _.’_ She eased over to him, gently kneeling and placing her bandaged hand on the decanter. 

His movements paused. 

She carefully lifted her leg and softly straddled him, letting her weight press down on his lap. “I’m here, Leon.” 

His eyes avoided her like death. He mumbled, “I wasn’t there…they took her and I wasn’t there.” He looked miserable; a million miles away. 

She laid her hands on his chest. “Leon…it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known the government was after her.”

He grimaced, his hand slinging to the side, the bottom of the decanter thumping on the carpet. “You were dead.” He made a strangled, wounded noise in his throat. “Died alone because I wasn’t there.” 

Claire eased her hands up, cupping his cheeks. “Leon. I’m right here.” 

He still refused to look at her as his jaw twitched. “She died alone. It’s **my** fault. I didn’t protect her. Didn’t protect Sherry. My family’s gone. Claire’s dead because I wasn’t there.” 

Her pulse sky-rocketed at his drifting. She gently pressed her fingers tighter against his flesh. “Leon.”

His twitching eased a bit.

“I’m here, Leon.” Soft hums fell from her lips as she held him. She whispered to him after a few minutes, “Look at me, you blue-eyed boy.” 

His breathing began to slow, before his eyes eventually locked onto her face. 

_‘Good,’_ she thought, before smiling at him. 

He looked at her a little more sharply. “Claire.” 

**_‘Very_ ** _good.’_ Her smile widened at him. “I’m here.” 

His eyes tried to focus on her. “I didn’t know what I’d done…what I had until…didn’t mean to break my promise.” His eyes darted to the side. “Sherry hates me.”

Her heart thrashed wildly in denial, but she quickly calmed herself. “Shh…there was no hate,” she whispered as she caressed her thumbs along his cheeks. She continued to gently pet him as his eyes showed a clear war going on in his mind. 

His face pinched sharply after a while as he tensed. “She’s my kid…and I wasn’t there,” his eyes closed, “I have to find her.” He struggled against her hands. “Wasn’t Umbrella. Have to get her back.” 

She wondered what he was seeing. She maintained a soothing voice, letting him work through it as she kept touching him, “I know, baby. You threw yourself to the U.S. government for her.” 

His gaze eventually landed on her unsteadily. “I can’t let you lose her because of **me**.” 

Her eyes stung at the heavy guilt in his voice as she continued smiling at him. “We lost her because of William and Annette Birkin. Their virus took her from us…but we got her back because of her **dad**.” 

He made a sound of grief.

Shame. 

“They can’t let her go.” 

“I know, Leon…but you did everything you could. Everything. We were able to see her. You’ve given **everything** for your family.” 

His eyes immediately filled with guilt. “But she hates—" 

“She **loves** you,” Claire whispered before pressing her lips along his forehead. She felt him relax a bit under her touch. “She’s **always** called you Dad…remember?” She continued kissing along his face. “She’s always been so happy to see you and hear from you over the years…couldn’t you tell how happy she was on the phone just **today** ? Oh Leon…you left a heartbroken girl there that night…who loved you. **Loves** you. Remember? No hate. Never.” 

He settled down, his gaze flickering with confusion. 

They fell into silence; she continued petting him and kissing along his flesh. 

Claire inhaled deeply with relief when she felt his hands gently land on her waist. She knew he was trying to get a hold of himself. 

“I’m sorry I left, Claire…didn’t see…that I had my family…was too late.” He made a pained sound, his eyes averting. “Too late…you’ve bled enough.” He growled, “God dammit, it’s enough.” 

She held him tighter, trying to keep him focused on her. Her soul **ached** at his torment. Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of everything he was going through. She wished she could magically take all his pain away somehow. 

She snuggled closer to him, whispering, “It’s never too late for family. The three of us never stopped being family, Leon. She’s always loved you, you’ve just forgotten that right now…and I…I was just hiding from you for a very long time. Leon, I’m here. We’re here.” 

He made a soft noise in his throat as his arms tightened around her. 

They sat in silence as the minutes stretched on. 

She waited patiently for him as she massaged the sides of his face and cuddled against him. 

His fingers eventually pressed into her hips.

She leaned back. 

His eyes were **much** sharper, now, as he looked at her. His voice was dark and ashamed, “You shouldn’t ever have to deal with my bullshit, Claire.”

_‘Thank God,’_ she thought, her heart fluttering. “Welcome back, baby,” she whispered, caressing his face.


	5. Some Souls just Understand each other upon Meeting

~5~

Some Souls just Understand each other upon Meeting

  
  


Featuring:

A Love worth burning for

His eyes were **much** sharper, now, as he looked at her. His voice was dark and ashamed, “You shouldn’t ever have to deal with my bullshit, Claire.” 

_‘Thank God,’_ she thought, her heart fluttering. “Welcome back, baby,” she whispered, caressing his face. 

His eyes flickered at her. “…Baby?” His lips twitched upwards. 

Her heart squeezed. _‘It just_ **_feels_ ** _good to call him that…’_ She huffed softly at him, “Shut up, jerk.”

They shared a small smile.

Her hand soothed up into his hairline as she spoke, “I’m here for you, always. Just...worried about what’s in that pretty head of yours tonight.” 

He studied her, before grunting, “There’s not enough whiskey in the city to make this rabbit hole between my ears worth exploring.” 

She hummed, her smile widening. “You’re worth **everything** to me. Let me help you.” She continued running her fingers through his hair.

His eyes searched her for a **long** time before he spoke, “I needed to know…if it was all bullshit…if Ada meant what she said about seeing me again.” His eyes flashed with pain. “And I thought I’d gotten through to her when she stood down. I wanted her to help us. Stand with us, against Umbrella…I didn’t know who she was, then.” 

Claire sighed softly. “I understand, Leon. You’ve always tried to find the good in people…but I was too busy being an angry Mama Bear to hear everything you were saying…I couldn’t see past Sherry that night to give a damn if Ada could somehow make you happy.” 

“I was a dumb fucking **kid** …didn’t know what happiness really was.” His eyes narrowed as he grimaced. He focused back onto her, his eyes lighting up in amusement. “You were a scary Mama.” 

She let her smile turn a bit dangerous. “You messed with my cub.” 

They shared a quiet laugh. 

She sighed, letting her hands roam his face. She massaged along his temples before pausing, debating on whether he should hear the truth. _‘He’s family,’_ she reminded herself. “She was still crying, when I found her…she was so upset, thinking that you were mad at her.” 

He tensed. 

She quickly cut off any response, soothing, “I know you weren’t, Leon, and I’m sure she knows that now.”

He sighed deeply.

She went on, “I…told her what you said to me outside, but…she thought that you might have lied, and wouldn’t come back at all after she yelled at you.” 

  
  


His hands tightened on her. “I **did** mean what I said. I was coming back, I swear it…but I just had to know…and I wanted to try and save her.” 

“I believe you, Leon…but she was mostly afraid. She said Ada used you, hurt you…was a liar. She was scared that maybe Ada would come back with you,” she whispered, admitting, “I was afraid of that, too.” 

His hands came up to rest atop hers. “You were, Claire?” 

She averted her gaze, avoiding his question. “Sherry was scared that you and Ada would become William and Annette…it’s **not** a nice story, Leon…and she was mainly afraid for **you**.” Claire’s fingers pressed into his temples as she tried to calm the trembles in her hands. Thinking about Sherry’s words to her that night never ceased to damage her. 

He was quiet as he spoke, “Sherry was so much smarter than me...I should have listened to her.” He squeezed her hands, his eyes searching her when she looked at him. “I realized too late how much I wanted us to be a family. A real one.”

Her pulse fluttered at his words.

They gazed at each other, before his jaw tensed. “What happened with her parents, Claire?” 

“Please don’t ask me.” 

Anger flared behind the blue in his eyes.

She leaned forward and nuzzled along his forehead. “It’s Sherry’s story to tell, but know that you’re nothing like them, and they can’t hurt her anymore,” she assured quietly, “But she was afraid of Ada.” 

His mouth started to open. He narrowed his brows in thought before sighing. “Okay, Claire.” 

She was glad he dropped it; she had no desire to recount **that** story to him.

“You have to understand how little girls think, Leon. Especially Sherry. After William and Annette…oh Leon, she was just so used to being abandoned and lied to. And hurt.” She lowered her hands to caress her thumbs across his lips, again silencing his response. “And she **wasn’t** abandoned, her dad came for her. She knows that, baby. She never stopped loving you. You **are** family to her. Always.” 

His head tilted back against the wall as he took a deep breath. “I know that.” His eyes flickered shamefully to her bandage. “But I go back there…sometimes.” 

“I’m sorry, Leon.” She studied him quietly. “…What happened? Why did you think it was Umbrella?” 

His expression grew **dark**. 

Her pulse raced in concern as she recognized the look. _‘He doesn’t want to talk about it.’_

Silence stretched between them. 

Claire tightened her hold on him. “I’ll listen whenever you’re ready to talk about it.” 

“…I know you would.” 

The emotion in his tone touched her. She met his eyes.

His face grew pained. “I couldn’t face you after what happened…thought you’d hate me forever.” His gaze averted to the side. “...And I wanted you to, Claire. Couldn’t bear the thought, back then...of any forgiveness,” he looked at her, his eyes full of torture, “So I let you go.” 

Claire’s heart screamed in panic. “There was **never** anything to forgive…I never blamed you for Sherry being taken…Leon, I…actually couldn’t help feeling **thankful** when I was—” She stopped, not wanting to recount the moments that night when she thought she was going to die. She rapidly blinked her eyes to rid the tears forming. “I **knew** you would have died before letting them have her, Leon, so I,” she chuckled wryly, “was grateful, then...that you were in love with Ada.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured harshly. His hands tightened on her wrists. “Claire…you never should’ve had to face them **alone** . I should have **been** there with you and Sherry, not chasing Ada.”

A grief-stricken whine slipped from her lips. “I’ve never hated you…but you’ve been carrying this by yourself, you jerk, and I **never** saw it…Leon…did you…?” She gazed at him, her stomach twisting. “Have you been hiding your…feelings for me… **all** this time?” 

He didn’t have to answer…his eyes told her the truth. 

_‘Claire, how could you have been so goddamn blind to him,’_ she hissed at herself. She couldn’t stop the trembling in her hands as she kept touching his face. She felt like she’d failed him. 

His fingers gently caressed along her bandage. He whispered, “I have, Claire.”

Hearing it from his lips struck her being.

His eyes were searching her as he spoke, “You said you’ve been hiding from me.” 

The question in his words called to her. She took a deep breath as she searched inside herself. She **looked** at the blue-eyed boy from so long ago, trying to express the most honest response, because he deserved nothing less from her than the **truth**. 

“Leon…I’d never bonded with someone so strongly like that before,” she started softly, “or since. From the moment we met,” she smiled, “I saw your eyes, then…I knew you’d die for me.” 

His lips parted as his other hand traveled to her face, cupping her jaw.

She tilted her face into his grasp, her right hand gripping his knuckles. “And when I introduced you to Sherry…you said ‘“Okay”’…and I saw that look again.” Claire squeezed his hand gently. “Leon...I’ve loved you in some way or another since the night we met. I was too young to really understand what it was. It was…frightening, then…I **knew** I’d die for you and Sherry. You both became everything to me very fast.”

She paused as her jaw began to tremble. _‘Claire…focus.’_

She stared at his eyes as she continued, “I couldn’t understand what was so special about Ada Wong,” she squeezed his hand again when he tensed, “Why was the woman who used you, lied to you…aimed a **gun** at you…was a criminal…why did you want **her** that night you left? If you wanted her over Sherry,” her breath hitched, “and over me…the ones who…loved you so much, had spent so much time with…then you must have really loved **her**.”

Claire felt like a weight was lifting from her chest once she finished asking the question her soul has been buried under all these years. 

They studied each other for a long time. 

He finally spoke, “I wasn’t in love with her, Claire. But it was **something**. Enough of a something to blind me to the everything that was right in front of my stupid face.” His thumb rubbed along her glossy lips.

Tingles raced through her body.

“…Was the biggest mistake of my life…realized it after I left. I wanted to tell you…beg you…when I came back…but…I thought Ada could still be an ally,” he growled, “I didn’t know she worked for **Wesker** , then.” 

She buried her face further into his hand when his eyes started to darken. 

He focused back onto her. 

His words were like balm to her scarred soul, that he had chosen their family in the end, chosen **her** …before the end. She hummed in bitter amusement. “It…actually pissed me off back then…when I eventually found out you and her **weren’t** together.” 

She laughed unsteadily at the immediate confusion on his face.

“Leon, I thought that after **everything** , she’d scorned you. Yeah, I know…I was sad for you, jerk.” 

“Jesus, Claire…” He sounded stunned. 

She closed her eyes to hide from his emotional stare. “I **thought** that was why you were so distant, so indifferent...buried in your work.” She squeezed his hand. “But I could still smell her on you sometimes. Even…even after we started sleeping together.” She opened her eyes, forcing herself to look at him. 

His face was filled with guilt. He started to open his mouth, “I—”

Claire felt her old anger flickering back as she snapped, interrupting him, “ **Thought** you were seeing her in secret, despite your denials. Thought maybe she was letting you get a ride once in a while…enough to keep you useful to her goddamn thievery…but I suppose they were all **‘fights’**.” 

He calmly studied her face before speaking, “No, not all. I’ve never slept with her, I swear it. She’s come onto me a few times…and only **once** did I ever consider it.” His eyes turned a bit cold and distant. “It wasn’t from any good place, Claire.”

She immediately recognized the ‘don’t ask’ tone. It was usually reserved for gruesome mission details. Things he wasn’t proud of. 

His eyes focused back onto her, and softened. He watched her. 

She let it drop.

“I…I was just too afraid of you, Leon,” she sighed, “of **her** ,” she admitted quietly, silencing her pride. She pulled her bandaged hand from his grasp and placed it on his chest. “I…felt like I died after you left me and Sherry that night, Leon…I didn’t know exactly what it was, but it felt like death when you went after Ada. I knew I never wanted to feel **anything** like that again. So I buried it. Refused to feel that for any man, ever again...and I didn’t…because I couldn’t, I know that now.”

His hand followed hers, gently grasping along her bandage. 

“But still, I…couldn’t stay away from you, even with the risk of Ada.” She pressed closer, moving his arms to wrap around her waist. She leaned against his chest, her hands coming up to cup his face. She smiled, caressing her thumb along his jaw. “I learned how to be okay with your occasional visits, tried to just…enjoy you, Leon.” 

His eyes flickered at her words.

She continued, “I convinced myself it wasn’t serious, that it was just sex, just benefits between friends. Leon Kennedy loved Ada Wong, and Claire Redfield loved **no** man,” she whispered, “so that it might be a **little** less horrible when Ada inevitably took you from me...when she finally gave you what I thought you wanted.” 

“I’d die first.” 

She couldn’t stop the chills shooting along her arms at his dark tone.

His gaze turned wistful as he husked, “I’m a stupid son of a bitch, Claire.”

“We’ve both been stupid,” she averted her eyes away from his disbelieving look, “You thought I blamed you for Sherry, for **everything** . I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, Leon...that you couldn’t talk to me about it.” She sighed shamefully. “I was just always so angry…at **her** , and—” 

“Claire, look at me.”

She met his softened gaze. “But even so, you…couldn’t stay away from me?” she accused him gently. 

His lips parted as he looked at her. 

They watched each other for a few minutes. 

He was quiet as he spoke, “I knew it was gonna burn. Burn me…burn you. I knew Ada would always be a part of my life; there’s no...goddamn **end** to Bio-Terror. Knew that the pain for my failures would always be there for you, Claire. But no…couldn’t stay away from you…was impossible, sweetheart.” His gaze roamed her face reverently. “You’ve always been an angel…a Goddess of Mercy to me.” 

“Leon...” She couldn’t stop the flood of embarrassment at his words. 

His hands fidgeted on her spine as he grunted, “Was a selfishly grateful prick when you allowed me to be that close to you, despite Ada…despite what happened with Sherry...despite **everything** I failed to do. I just wanted to make you happy however I could…and try to keep you away from Ada’s flames.” 

Her fingers tightened on his face. She nuzzled her cheek against his jaw, her heart longing to reach for him. She whispered, “You were worth burning for. I love you, Leon, **never** stopped, and I’ll always choose to burn for you.” 

An overwhelming feeling of harmony washed over her. 

He inhaled sharply as his arms tightened, clasping her against his chest. “I love you, Claire…I have for a very long time, sweetheart…but it’s a hell of a fire, tonight.” 

Claire softly nipped at his jaw with a whisper, “So I’ll find marshmallows to roast, baby…I’m never letting you go again.”


	6. Off to War, With you in my Heart

~6~

Off to War, With you in my Heart

Featuring:

The town of Bedrock.

The woman in the red dress.

Batman.

He inhaled sharply as his arms tightened, clasping her against his chest. “I love you, Claire…I have for a very long time, sweetheart…but it’s a hell of a fire, tonight.” 

Claire softly nipped at his jaw with a whisper, “So I’ll find marshmallows to roast, baby…I’m never letting you go again.” 

“Never should have let you go, Claire.” Her head tilted back when his hands began to roam along her spine. 

She softly moaned from his touches, gently rocking her hips into his lap. Her bandaged hand trailed along his face.

He grasped it, pressing a kiss to the gauze.

“Leon…she was messing with my family,” she explained. Her gaze shot to his face; his beautiful eyes. Angry protectiveness flared through her blood. Her hand gripped at his hair, gently tilting his head to the side. “She put her hands on my man,” she whispered before she let her mouth claim his flesh, biting and sucking on his neck.

His rumbling groans reverberated through her core. 

She tongued at the love-bite, inhaling the scent of spice on his skin. 

“Claire.” His tone, and the electricity in her veins was familiar. 

She recognized it in his voice now; recognized his heart calling out for her.

It was paradise from his lips. 

His breaths were shallow as his fingers trailed down to run across the lacy tops of her panty hose underneath the short hem of her dress. 

She softly growled into his neck, “That’s right. Claire. Claire Redfield; **not** Pampered Little Princess.” Her bandaged hand caressed his jaw as she spoke, “Leon...I can’t stop my claws coming out sometimes. But that’s between me and **her** ; I don’t want you to feel responsible for that.” She grazed his lips with her thumb. “If I ever catch her touching you again, Leon, I won’t apologize for my violent actions towards that **bitch**.”

His hands ran up her dress as he groaned, palming her hips and cheeks through her lacy panties.

The desire for his touch rushed through her nerves. 

“So vicious, sweetheart,” he praised in that whiskey-gravel whisper she treasured. He tilted his head back against the wall when she shoved against him. “Jealous little thing.”

Her hands grasped his face before she meshed their mouths together. Claire was demanding in her kiss, wanting him to know **exactly** who was kissing him.

His response to her was eager; his mouth moved against hers passionately. He fisted his hands into the material of her dress as he pulled her closer.

Claire whined desperately against his mouth, her tongue pressing and sliding against his. Pleasure pulsed between her thighs. She jerked back from him.

His eyes were glazed with lust as he stared at her.

She slightly panted as she spoke, “I mean it, Leon. I **am** a very jealous goddamn woman,” her hands reached between them, aggressively unfastening his pants, “I don’t want you to even **think** about touching another bitch anymore. You wanna dick someone, you come to **me**.” 

A low, moaning chuckle rumbled in his chest. He scooted down, giving her room to maneuver his pants around his hips. “Yes ma’am.” His amused indulgence was tempered by the dark fire in his blue eyes. 

She wrapped her hand around his thick erection and squeezed. “You’d better be prepared, Leon. Cause I like to get dicked…a lot,” she taunted as she quickly worked her panties off. 

“Jesus,” he rasped, watching her with hooded eyes as she settled over him. He grasped her hips, pausing her movement. “I don’t have a condom—" 

“Ask me for a condom and I’ll make you **eat** one,” she growled at him before sinking herself onto his erection. Her nerves lit up as she stretched around him. **He** was her favorite feeling in the world.

His head thumped back against the wall, his mouth falling open with a groan. His teeth worked at his lower lip as she began pivoting her hips wildly, taking what she wanted, clenching and pulling him. “Gentleman’s habit,” he husked out, his hands sidling along her waist. 

She gripped her fingers along his neck and shoulders, tossing her head back as she slammed herself with his dick. “Fuck, so good.” She panted as their bodies slicked together. A shuddering moan vibrated in her throat. “Obviously I’ve never wanted one with you, Leon. They were just for everyone else.” 

A rattled breath ripped from his mouth as his hands groped her body, squeezing and palming her through the damp material of her dress. He reached behind her, pulling the zipper down on her back. “Let me see those tits, Claire,” he rasped, his other hand gently pulling the front of her dress down enough to expose the lacy, bright-blue strapless bra. He rumbled low in his throat at the sight, clearly pleased by what he saw.

She knew he recognized it, then.

He jerked her against him, greedily mouthing at her chest as she rode him. His fingers gripped along her spine as he husked, “You look so goddamn sexy like this.” His tongue trailed along her cleavage before mouthing at her necklace. 

“I told you,” she moaned desperately at the pleasure when his dick angled against her spot, “have **everything** you’ve given me. Wore it for you,” she gasped, arching her spine into him as she rocked, “cause I’d planned for you to take it off of me tonight.” 

Goosebumps littered her skin at his dark growl. His arms tightened around her, and she sucked in a breath as she was quickly maneuvered onto her back on the floor. 

He hovered over her, one hand palming the carpet above her shoulder. 

She writhed under him, unable to calm down as he adjusted himself back into her. Her hand gripped at his wrist next to her head as she whined. 

His other hand held her hip as he thrust in and out of her. His voice was wrecked, “Had one-night stands come and go, we weren’t saints…but there’s only one woman…that boils my goddamn blood, Claire. That grants peace to the bullshit.”

His words set her ablaze. “Always been yours, baby,” she gasped out.

He leaned over her, planting his face into the side of her neck. He rasped against her flesh, “I never let myself see you, sweetheart. And when I finally did…couldn’t let it go, anymore. Not when there might’ve been a chance that you’d come to care for me, to forgive—” He growled, his thrusts turning wild. “…I was a **stupid** son of a bitch…never saw that I’ve **always** been your man.” 

She scrabbled for him, her fingers clutching along the straps of his holsters. She raised her legs, letting them rest against his hips as she arched up into him. She’d **never** felt so connected with him before. 

It was intoxicating. 

She moaned at his tonguing of her favorite area on her neck; it always connected straight to her pussy. Her arousal heightened as she wondered if he **knew** that. Her fingers pawed along his shoulders. “Jesus, Leon, **fuck me**.” 

His hand tightened on her hip as he sped up. 

A strangled cry tore from her as she throbbed around his flesh. The carpet dug into the back of her shoulders at his harsh pace. She reveled in the burn. 

His voice was pure sex, “Cause you always need it from me,” he accused as he leaned up away from her. He grabbed her legs, roughly placing her calves against his shoulders. He grunted, “All those other pricks had to wrap it up.” He slammed into her, and she nearly saw stars from the force. “Didn’t they, Claire.” 

He wasn’t asking. 

The ego in his voice sent pleasure racing through her. “What the hell do **you** think?” she goaded him back. Her gaze glittered up at him arrogantly as her lips parted. 

His expression morphed to something dangerous. 

Something possessive.

The feeling of being desired rushed across her body like warm waves.

His fingers squeezed the tops of her thighs as he fucked into her relentlessly. He turned his face, mouthing and teething at the side of her knee. He growled, “Wanna hear you **say** it.” 

His demand revved her. _‘He_ **_really_ ** _likes that,’_ she realized. Her hands slid along her chest, caressing the lacy material of his gifted lingerie. 

She held his stare as he watched her movements like a predator. 

Claire tilted her neck back, letting a long moan fill the air between them as she squeezed and fondled her breasts. She re-met his gaze, a small smirk gracing her lips. “That tickle your goddamn ego? Being the only one?”

His lips parted as he panted, eyes never leaving her face.

She arched and writhed under him, wetness coating her inner thighs from their bodies slamming together. She felt more gush from her under the intensity of his gaze. She cooed at him, “You like that, baby? Being the only man I’ve ever let inside of me like this? Without a condom?” 

She was shamelessly delighted when she noted the stuttering in his hips, the hitches in his breathing. 

Claire couldn’t deny how much she was loving learning what completely wrecks him. 

She went for the kill. 

Her hands roamed her body. She tilted and arched her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. “Leon,” she purred. “You’re the only man…I’ve ever let cum in me."

A violent groan burst from him, his face screwing up as he spilled into her. He panted, his thrusts slowing. A satisfied breath left his mouth as he gradually lowered her legs, hovering over her. His face landed on her cleavage, her skin cooling at the slight dampness on his forehead. 

She couldn’t stop the smirk as her fingers flew to his head, gently soothing through his hair. Her fingers relished in the silkiness of his hair. “Well, it tickled **something** , I see,” she whispered, feeling **very** pleased with herself. 

A muffled grunt from her breasts, “Not…my proudest performance.” 

She softly snorted at his now **wounded** ego, _‘Live by the sword, die by the sword, Leon.’_

Affection for him swelled inside her. “For God’s sake, Leon, it was incredible; it always is. **You** always are. Dumbass.” She tightened her legs around his hips, holding him close. _‘Doesn’t matter how_ **_long_ ** _you last, stupid man,’_ she mused. She trailed her hands down along his shoulders. “A bit possessive, are we?” She couldn’t stop the teasing shot at him. 

He chuckled into her skin, before his lips began pecking along her chest. “For my favorite girl?” He raised up, the smile on his face absolutely treacherous. His gloved hand flew to her face, his thumb rubbing along her mouth. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

She tried to recover from the electricity running through her from his tone. She ran her tongue over the pad of his thumb. An amused hum fell from her mouth. “Ah, still in love with Wilma Flintstone, I see.” 

His expression flickered, before twisting in amusement. His face fell back to her cleavage. He groaned, “Make **one** Bed-Rock joke and you’re marked for life.” 

She snickered. “’Fraid so.” 

He grunted softly before his hands started traveling along her torso. He began to pull away from her. 

She immediately tightened her hold on him, not ready to lose his weight on top of her yet. It struck her…he’s never lingered like this after sex before. He’d always been quick to get off of her. 

The yearning for that intimacy was shockingly potent. 

“Lemme take care of you,” he whispered, his fingers teasing at the top edge of her bra. 

“You have,” she murmured, her hands running along his back. Her fingers savored the contrasting sensation between his leather holsters and the silkiness of his shirt and vest. She gently rocked her hips, pleased with the warm wetness where they were still connected. 

“Not in the habit of leaving my girl unsatisfied.” His confident boast couldn’t quite hide the underlying edge in his voice. 

Inadequacy. 

“You have no idea how satisfied I am tonight,” she whispered, pulling on him.

He leaned up to meet her halfway in a kiss. 

She let her tongue tease along his lips. “It’s perfect.” 

He exhaled softly as he pressed into her, his mouth gentle and smooth. His hands found hers, easing them over her head and pinning them to the carpet.

She bent her body upwards as they claimed each other with their lips and tongue. 

It felt like flying. 

A soft series of knocks vibrated her hearing. She registered that it was someone at the door. 

He leaned back with a thoughtful grunt, “Helena.”

Claire startled in alarm. “ **Jesus** , Leon.” She began shoving at him. “You have a job to do and I’m jumping you like a goddamn horny teenager.” She wiggled against his heaviness. “You still haven’t eaten anything, and you’d better get cleaned up.” She huffed in frustration when he didn’t move. She stared up at him; his gaze was soft and amused. 

“To be continued,” he allured deeply with a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. 

She briefly trembled at the dark promise in his tone. 

He eased off of her, the absence sending chills along the skin underneath her rain-dampened clothes. 

She took a shuddering breath after a few minutes as she pulled herself together. Her eyes darted along the carpet, frantically searching for her panties. 

Leon headed towards the kitchen. “Just a minute, Helena,” he called. 

Claire spotted the blue underwear near the wall. Her fingers reached, pausing when she looked at the drywall debris dotting the carpet near the clothing. She swallowed harshly. _‘So much pain…if I wasn’t such a goddamn broken coward…maybe he wouldn’t have suffered so much.’_ Guilt flickered through her. She snatched the underwear before getting to her feet. 

The kitchen faucet turned on, and she listened to Leon cleaning up as she made a tactical retreat down the back hallway. 

Claire stood in his bathroom, cleaning herself up before washing her hands, being careful around her bandage. She let her vision lock onto her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was wrecked, her dress was practically hanging off her chest, her hose had tears in it, her neck had tiny bruises, and her makeup was smeared. 

She looked like she’d been in a fight.

Claire dried her hands forcefully. _‘A fourteen-year-long fight,’_ she thought bitterly. Anger at herself flamed as she re-zipped her dress and adjusted her girls. 

She glared at her reflection. _‘All these years, thinking that_ **_she_ ** _was making him suffer, playing with his heart…giving him just enough ‘attention’ to keep him chasing her.’_

Bile rose in her throat as she stared at her clothes. _‘Turns out the bitch in the red dress was me.’_

She was nearly overwhelmed with guilt as his suffering-filled face flashed through her memory. Claire hissed as she closed her eyes, hiding from herself. She took a few breaths as her fingers came up to clasp her necklace. _‘This needs to stop…I’m done. It’s over. No more anger. No more guilt, Redfield. There’s been enough.’_

_‘It’s enough.’_

_‘He loves me.’_

She again met her reflection. _‘I didn’t know about his feelings, his pain…and he didn’t know about my scars…because neither one of us could ever fucking talk about Ada Wong.’_ She inhaled deeply, letting it cleanse her. _‘But that’s changed for us, I feel it. I love him, and his happiness means_ **_everything_ ** _to me.’_

Claire left his bathroom, and she didn’t try to smother the burst of warm emotions in her chest like she’s done for well over a decade. That change alone was like a heavy dose of painkiller to her soul. 

A woman’s voice tickled Claire’s ears. _‘Must be Helena.’_

“—can see it was a…nice reunion.” 

She heard Leon chuckle as she re-entered the living room.

He was standing in front of a brunette woman, his hand rubbing at his neck.

The hickey she gave him flashed through her mind. She smirked possessively. _‘Hope you get an eyeful of that, Ada.’_

“You have no idea.” He chuckled at Helena.

Claire approached them. 

Leon’s gaze turned to her. The happiness in his eyes caused her to smile. _‘I want that on his face forever.’_

He turned back to his partner. “Helena, this is Claire.” 

The brunette faced her.

Claire noted the flicker of confusion in her eyes. She offered her hand, shaking it when Helena grasped it. “Hi. Claire Redfield.” 

“Helena…uh, Harper.” A tiny smile graced her lips as she gazed at the redhead’s appearance. 

_‘She’s probably wondering why I look so wrecked.’_ Claire smirked deviously. “I’m his,” she paused as her gaze bounced to Leon, the word ‘girlfriend’ leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, “we’re together. I’m his girl…and we tend to get ‘handsy’ when he’s running off to play hero.” 

The pure panic that sparked in Helena’s eyes as her vision darted between Claire and Leon caused the redhead to laugh.

Claire let a tiny snicker break free. “I’m getting the impression that you were expecting someone **else** to be here.” 

Her fiendish joy heightened as she noted the **immediate** uncomfortable pinching in both Leon and Helena’s faces.

“You could…say that,” Helena admitted. 

Claire recognized the hint of suspicion in the woman’s eyes as the agent looked at Leon. It amused her. _‘Trust me, I know the feeling.’_ Her thoughts then turned to Ada, _‘I wonder if I’ll ever understand the complicated bullshit between you and him.’_

Leon sighed with clear-suffering. “Helena, it’s a…really long story.” 

Claire mused, _‘I don’t doubt it…and maybe he’ll be able to tell me, someday, now that I know she’s not the woman that haunts his dreams; that we can talk about her, now.’_

She watched them as the silence wore on. She hummed softly, finally taking mercy on the two agents to ease the tension. “You’ll have to forgive him, Helena.” She patted the woman on the bicep. “He’s a giant baby when it comes to communicating his feelings,” she leaned in conspiratorially, whispering, “He prefers brooding.” 

She ignored the offended huff coming from her man. 

Helena softly snorted, the stiffness easing from her face. She studied her partner. “Well, I think it might be time now for a **little** story-telling, at least.” 

Claire loved the biting undertone in the woman’s voice. She liked her, already. 

Leon shook his head with a quiet laugh. His eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Got time on the way to Bradshaw,” he offered. He laid his hand on Helena’s shoulder. “And drinks are on me when we get back, and for the rest of your days, Helena.” 

The agent scoffed in amazement, clearly confused. “Not that I’ll complain about free drinks, but…” she trailed off with an amused smile. 

His stare was solid. “Trust me, I owe you.” 

Claire wondered what he meant by that.

He stepped away, grabbing the duffel from the table. 

She sighed, knowing that it was time to say goodbye. “You’re at least taking the damn sandwiches,” she grumbled, hurrying to the kitchen, “and don’t even try to argue.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it…learned to pick my battles with bossy women.”

She smiled at his teasing chuckles. 

“I’ll just…wait at the car…it was nice meeting you,” Helena’s voice drifted from the living room. 

Claire called back, “You too. Be careful…and keep an eye on him. He tends to get himself into trouble.” 

Helena’s laugh was nice to her ears. “One of the first things I learned about him.” 

Leon scoffed, “Starting to regret this introduction.” 

Claire packed the sandwiches back into the rumpled take-out bag. “Truth hurt, baby?” 

“Not as bad as his driving does,” Helena added to the burn. 

Claire snorted, amusement flooding through her. “I like you already, Helena.”

She re-entered the living room as Leon shrugged his hands up with a huff, “Getting my goddamn nuts constantly busted by women.” He shook his head. “Story of my life.” 

The two ladies laughed at his suffering. 

Helena hummed, crossing her arms as she gazed at her partner. “Well, the next thing I noticed was that he tends to get himself and others **out** of trouble.” 

Claire smiled at the softness in her voice. “That he does.”

Helena exited the apartment with a tiny wave at her. 

“I like her,” Claire informed him as her smile grew. 

He smirked, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You would.” 

A few beats of silence passed between them. 

Claire felt tension creeping in her stomach. She handed the bag to him with a heavy exhale. “Be careful, jerk.” 

They gazed at each other for a few moments.

Her stomach kept twisting horribly as her worries began coming back full-force. _‘Pull yourself together, Redfield,’_ she scolded herself. 

She noted a teasing glint beginning to form in his eyes. 

Suspicion filled her. 

His mouth started to open. 

Claire pressed into his space as she spoke, “Don’t say something stupid.”

His brows tilted upwards.

She cupped his face, pecking his lips with kisses. “Stupid things tend to turn into stupidly famous last words,” she explained while managing to hold a teasing smile. 

He considered her, before smiling softly. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” He leaned back in for another kiss.

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying it as they slightly swayed together.

He eventually eased away, before heading towards the door.

She crossed her arms as she watched him go. 

He paused in the doorway, looking back at her. His face grew boyishly fiendish. “Cause I’m Batman.” 

She jolted. “You—” 

He smirked and shut the door quickly, cutting off her response.

“Rat!” she finished with an amused huff. 

A muffled shout from the hallway, “I’m the cockroach of Bio-Terror, Claire! The **Cockroach**!” 

She groaned, her head dropping towards her chest as she smiled at his words. His stupid jokes **never** failed to make her happy. 

Her chest bloomed with affection. 

“Thanks, Leon.”

*** 

Claire mused over her speech as she did final touch-ups on her appearance. She finished setting her hair into a loose bun, letting loose tendrils fall around her face. She pondered, _‘Hmm…thank you all for coming…or thank you all for being here?’_

Muffled conversations drifted through the walls of the elaborate public bathroom. 

She frowned. _‘Need to get back out there.’_ She sighed at her reflection as she adjusted her lavender blouse. 

Speeches were one of her least favorite parts of hosting these charity events. 

_‘It’s worth it for the kids,’_ she reminded herself with a smile. 

A slight chill tingled along her left wrist as her bracelet sidled against her skin from her movements. 

Her anxiety eased as she fingered the delicate jewelry, letting the pretty angels soothe her. She loved his present, and regretted not telling him that before he left. 

Her chest began to cramp. 

“This shit is so **boring** , please tell me there’s at least food this time that’s not ass sewage?” 

Claire immediately smiled, letting her focus fall to Moira as the girl stepped into the bathroom. “This resort’s a pretty upscale place, so you’re probably in luck,” she assured with a smirk. 

The brunette didn’t seem convinced as the two exited the room.

They wandered the fancy hallways. 

Claire’s phone beeped incessantly as they approached the large, richly-decorated ballroom. She startled to a stop, recognizing the specific alarm. 

“ **Luck** , huh?” Moira muttered sarcastically. 

The two women shared a tense look as Claire pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

She looked over the news, her pulse sky-rocketing when the words ‘Bradshaw, Kansas- site of Bio-Terror attack’ scrolled along the bottom of the screen as an aerial camera panned.

Utter, smoke-filled chaos filled the screen; the streets of the town were completely overwhelmed with frantic civilians, zombies, and other B.O.W.’s. 

It was bloody. 

A female newscaster was speaking, “…Latest update on the chaos erupting in Bradshaw; the B.S.A.A has been called in; a desperate attempt to quell the Bio-Terror gripping the streets. Our hearts go out to the residents of this idyllic town, as the current death toll is in the approximate thousands—” 

Claire immediately buried the fear and rage that flew through her. 

She focused on what needed to be done. “Moira, I need you to take over for me here. I’ll notify the teams.” 

She crossed her arms. “Going **with** you, Claire.” 

Claire started to open her mouth, pausing at the fierce look in Moira’s eyes. She immediately saw Barry, and the girl’s proven survival instincts. Claire knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win. She couldn’t help the pride that flickered through her for Moira’s dedication.

“Okay,” Claire conceded, “Find Emma, tell her to keep the event going, and don’t start a panic.” 

Moira nodded before leaving to do what she was told.

Claire quickly dialed her office building. “Jason,” she spoke into the phone. 

His reply was immediate, “Already on it. Teams are prepping now.”

She headed towards the exit of the building. “Good, get a safe perimeter set up away from the chaos for survivors. I’ll be assisting the Trauma and Vaccination team inside the town. These people need help **now**.”

“Got it…careful out there, Redfield.” 

She gripped the phone, her bracelet jingling. “Always.”

TO BE CONTINUED 

Sequels and Prequels are in progress. 

~Thank you so much for reading~ 

Hope you enjoyed, and consider subscribing if you’d like to be notified when more installments are posted. 

<3 Love to the wonderful Cleon fans! You guys make this fandom awesome.


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